


The Life and Times of a Bunch of Vaguely Menacing People

by DollBlood



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Autistic Character, Drinking, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Overwatch, Swearing, a town full of bitter old millenials, but ill eventually include everyone, characters that would be useless in the game itself, heavy on the gore, ill add characters as i go along, mute character, necromancy stuff, swearing in other languages, this is literally just me playing around with my ocs and my friends ocs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2018-09-17 15:02:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9330542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DollBlood/pseuds/DollBlood
Summary: In the future, things are far from being fixed. There's still days that you just want to repeatedly slam your head into the wall. But that's life. Hover cars cant fix bad days. And with the terrible, rotten, horrendous days, sometimes, more often than not, comes maybe a few good days that aren't quite as bad. That's something that even the most talented soldiers, on either side of the fight, need to learn.





	1. Olive Sinclair

**Author's Note:**

> if you didnt read the tags, i 1) think you really should and wonder why you didnt in the first place, and 2) feel the need to tell you that this is 90% consisting of ocs, either mine or my friend's. If you dont like ocs, although why you wouldnt, i havent the faintest idea, hit that back button and find something else.
> 
> if you are all about ocs, and, like me, are currently drowning in your love for them, by all means! continue and i hope you enjoy!
> 
> as of this chapter, the good days/bad days tally is: Overwatch:1/0. Talon:0/0

The meat grinder had been an accident. Anyone could have made the mistake that led to Olive needing a replacement hand. But apparently, they had gotten into too many of these accidents, and the ranch was giving them their one-week warning.

They were told while Dr. Arphaxad made some small repairs to their new hand. They stared at their boss, ex-boss, as he fiddled with the pens in his pocket.

"I'm sorry, Olive. You've been such a big help on the property, but you're a danger to yourself. I had you in the kitchens to stop your accidents, not increase them."

"But I need-" they tried to protest. Andrés held up his hand to stop them.

"You paid off your debt. Long ago. Go home, I'm sure your parents will be happy to see you, pequeño."

They sighed and looked to the Doctor for help, but they were suddenly very fixated on Olive's hand.

"Ok."

* * *

 

A week later, and they got a message in the mail. They weren't a very popular person, so it came as a surprise. What it said was even more so.

" _Olive Sinclair,_

_Though you have not submitted an application, or so much as looked our way for employment, we here at Overwatch would be pleased to have you on our staff team._

_It's takes a special kind of nondescript person to work behind the scenes, preferably one who has worked positively with Omnics and humans of all kinds. We have selected you, for your past performances with both, as well as your spectacular work in the kitchens of your previous employer. Our kitchens at the Watchpoint: Gibraltar have been devastatingly empty, and a top chef should be highly appreciated._

_Should you take this job, you must sign a treaty of secrecy, and move to the base. Quarters will be provided. Agents are not always present at base, and cooking for everyone will not be often, however having meal plans fit for fifty will be preferred, as many of our agents have increased metabolisms._

_If you do not want this opportunity, burn this letter. If you do, contact me at XXX-XXXX._

_-Winston, Agent at Overwatch._ "

Their hands shook as they read the letter again, but they weren't sure if it was due to their new, occasionally accident-prone hand, or nerves. But it was this shaking that freed the extra bit of parchment in the envelope still clutched in their hand. They gently picked it up and unfolded what appeared to be a receipt with forty dollars worth of peanut butter and bananas charged on it. The back had a note written on it.

" _P.S: should you agree, unless you are making me a snack, leave all bananas and peanut butter in the fridge alone._ "

They couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up out of them at the absurdity.

They knew of overwatch. They knew they fought the Omnics, which just seemed ridiculous to them, both at the time and now. All Omnics they had ever met were pleasant, and they lived through some of the worst years of the war.

Although, lived is quite a strong word.

* * *

 

In their mid teen years, Olive was diagnosed with cancer and hospitalized until they were twenty four. Neither they or their parents could pay the hospital fee, so the owner of the hospital enlisted Olive to work at his ranch, as he had done for so many of his other patients. Most left after their payment was done, but Olive had continued to work out there for nearly twenty years. At this point, he owed _them_ money. But they wouldn't take it, they hadn't continued to work for money, but for the enjoyment of it. Even if it did leave them with a half-metal torso and a robotic leg and hand.

The Omnics in their area were not war machines. They were built for farm work. What few butler-ish Omnics they saw in their life were owned by rich families who really had no use being in the slums and street markets that made up Olive's home.

People were a bit weirded out by the Omnics when they first came about, but they grew to appreciate them, and the market place that was once bustling with only people became a social gathering between the species.

When the omnic crisis hit, the Omnics vanished for several weeks. The markets were quiet beyond the mumbled trading between humans. Less people went to talk with the vendors, and the business lessened each day.

The first omnic to walk into the place in weeks had red eyes and guns drawn.

The first human to take note, was an old blind woman who had worked with the omnic before. They had often traded together, becoming an unbreakable force to be bartered with. She, too stubborn to let anyone swindle her; and the omnic, one made for harvesting ground vegetables like potatoes and carrots, had a keen eye that wouldn't let any faulty material pass her by in a trade.

The old blind woman could not see the red in her eyes or the guns that replaced her usual equipment, but she recognized the sound of her voice.

She hadn't hesitated to throw her arms around the omnic when she realized who was in front of her.

Vendors took notice as the robot beeped sporadically, unsure of the turn of events, but instead of running in fear, as she had become accustomed to, cheers were sent up around the market and more people came forth to hug and thank her for returning.

Whoever programmed the virus sweeping through Omnics all across the globe failed to consider how it would react to pure adoration. Before, people would act out in fear or hate, but ever since the crisis, not one person had responded with love, and now one omnic was receiving the brunt of this reaction. She didn't know how to react, and the red in her eyes slowly seeped out, leaving behind a light grey glow as she laughed and finally hugged her old blind woman back.

As the crisis continued everywhere else, the market and slums of Olive's neighborhood returned to it's hubbub of human/omnic cohabitation. The rouge Omnics that passed through were met with the same love as the first, from the traders who had reveled in their company. Within the borders of the neighborhood, the Omnics were just as they always had been.

Outside, was a different story.

They were still programmed with what every other omnic had in the world. The only exception to the ones prowling about in this corner of Mexico, was that not everyone was their target.

With each day came the assassinations of more of the officials who lead to the poverty of so many people. With each day, a few Omnics would stroll back into the markets and buy far more food and supplies than they needed, with money that wasn't really theirs, and disperse the goods to those in the slums too poor for even the cheapest materials.

Olive was too young to fully understand at the time, and they were too sick to mourn by the time the majority of Omnics were shut down. But the memory of the Omnics who brought them treats when they were young was something sweet they could look back on while going through the roughest years of chemo.

They would always see Omnics as equals, if not something higher. They were, after all, the reason they had a hand, a leg, hearing, and a life today.

* * *

 

Gibraltar was a strange place, Olive thought, as the limo that dropped them off in front sped away. They stared up at the tall building before them as they slowly walked to the doors. After sitting on a plane for five hours, and then the car ride to the base, their leg had gone funny and it was difficult to move it. They dragged themselves through the door and came face to face with a very large gorilla. They stared, since no words came to them.

"Hello! You're Olive Sinclair, correct? I'm Winston."

They blinked, trying to process this onslaught of information, then smiled and held out their hand.

"Yeah, that's me. And you're the one with an affinity for bananas and peanut butter?"

He laughed and nodded before turning away.

"Come on, I'll show you to your room and then the kitchens. The others aren't here right now, they're on their own missions. But you will meet them all over time."

* * *

 

Olive nearly screamed at the sight of their new kitchen.

Way up on the eighth floor, and connected to a large cafeteria, was the kitchen that would make up their new workplace. Decked in stainless steel and white marble countertops, and all the latest in cooking ware. There was a stove with ten burners. Ten. 

"Oh, Winston..." they sighed at the sight, but the gorilla seemed to take it the wrong way.

"What? Is something wrong? I can have it remodeled... again..."

They could barely respond beyond giving him a tight hug and shaking their head.

"It's beautiful, I didn't even know steel could shine like this! L-look at that mixer, it's as big as my belly!" They finally laughed, and Winston chuckled back at them.

"I'm glad you like it. I'll let you get settled. You don't officially start until tomorrow, so get some rest."

He turned and left, and Olive stared across their new territory with their hands on their hips. Just cause they weren't on the payroll yet didn't mean that they couldn't try out the tools of their trade.

* * *

 

With several new batches of bizcochitos made (they had three ovens! They could bake six batches at the same time!) they made their way up to their room with a small plate of the cookies.

Inside their room, they noticed a small metal box on the wall, and immediately pressed a button on it, despite not knowing what it did.

"Athena program activated. What can I do for you, Mx. Sinclair?" A woman's voice responded, perky and happy to help.

"Oh, uh..." they had only just stuffed their mouth with a cookie and couldn't swallow it quick enough to respond.

"I can wait until you are finished eating."

They nodded and chewed before managing to finish what was in their mouth.

"Ok, what are... you?"

"I am the Athena program. I am an AI that protects the base, as well as our agents while that are on missions. I can answer any question you may have, and should you need help in the kitchen, I will be happy to help with anything I am able to."

"Oh, wow, thank you." They said with wide eyes.

"You are quite welcome, Mx. Sinclair. Do you need anything else at the moment?"

"Um... can you contact Winston?"

"Calling Winston..."

There were a few beeps before Winston's voice cut through over the speaker.

"Athena, I'm busy, I've got this- no, I can't take any- Athena please."

"Uh, Winston?" They asked, feeling like they were intruding.

"Oh! Olive! I didn't see that Athena patched you through. Is everything ok?"

"Yeah, it's great actually! I just wanted to tell you that there's cookies in the kitchen if you want some... They aren't peanut butter, if you were wondering."

"You didnt have to do that, Olive, you aren't-"

"I was just testing out the new digs, and it was easy! Recipe I know by heart. Barely took me over an hour."

"Well, I will try to make my way up. I believe that some agents are set to come back tonight, so they may make their way through the kitchen to grab some too."

"I made eight dozen, just to be safe."

"Y-you what!?"

"You said make meals fit for fifty people, and I know people like cookies, so I just made a lot."

"Th-that... well, I can't really argue with that. But I hope you don't work yourself too hard. We can't have you passing out on the job."

"I'm used to the hours required for being a chef, and I know how to take care of myself. I should be fine. But thank you for worrying, Winston. I'm headed to bed, but I'll be starting breakfast at four."

"Sleep well, Olive."

"Will do."

Athena cut the call and they got ready for bed slowly but steadily. They weren't especially tired, since they had rested on the plane, but they knew they had to be up early, so they had Athena play some relaxation music as they settled in for the night.

* * *

 

McCree got back to the base at the same time as D.Va and Lucio did. They sent tired greetings his way as they went down to debrief with Winston, and he headed for the kitchens. He would join them after he got something to eat.

He expected to just root around the fridge for something, but when he stepped into the kitchen, he was met with the smell of anise and sugar, and his mouth started watering. That was a smell he hadn't come across since before he wound up here. Back when he was still Gabriel's trainee.

He looked around the kitchen until his gaze fell on several large platters of bizcochitos. He picked one up, sniffed it, then took a bite.

It crumbled in his mouth and the sugar that coated it melted on his tongue. The anise was strong, but didnt overpower it with a licorice taste that some off-brand attempts would.

It was perfect.

He grabbed one of the platters and made his way down to Winston with a smile on his face. He ate as he walked.

* * *

 

When he reached the labs where Winston said he'd be, Lucio and Hana were just getting up to leave.

"Go get something to eat, you two. You did a good job. Oh, McCree." Winston looked up at him when he walked in, and the other two turned to look at him. "I see you found some snacks."

"Didjya make these, Winston? They're perfect." He said as he bit into another cookie. He wasn't even sure how many he had eaten at this point. The plate was certainly lighter.

"Cookies?" Lucio asked as he and Hana approached. "Can we have some?"

"Yeah, cowboy, don't hog them all!" Hana said, reaching for a stack. McCree smacked her hand away.

"Nuh-uh, little lady, these are alllll mine." He held the plate high above either of their heads so they couldn't reach it, even if they jumped. They both pouted.

"That's enough you three." Winston chuckled and grabbed the plate from McCree. "You can't eat eight dozen cookies in one sitting anyways, McCree."

"Eight dozen?" Hana asked.

"There should be more in the kitchen, yes. And to answer your earlier question, no I didn't make these." He popped one in his mouth and smiled. "Though I admit they are very good. My compliments to the chef."

"Wait," Lucio muttered. "You're the only one here. Who made them?"

"As of five pm today, I was not the only one here."

"Did Reinhardt come back early?" Hana wondered.

"Reinhardt doesn't know how to make cookies like these." McCree said absently. "Winston stop bein so cryptic."

He chuckled and shrugged.

"You'll meet them. By the way, what time is it?"

"Uh, 3:17?" Hana said as she checked her phone.

"You two need rest. McCree, sit down and debrief so you can go too."

Hana and Lucio headed out, not before stealing a few cookies for themselves, and McCree began the arduous task of explaining every portion of his mission to Winston as he typed. Usually they would do this with 76, but since he was busy tonight, Winston was in charge.

* * *

 

He trudged back up to the kitchens, intending to put the plate back where he found it. Between him, Winston, and a really boring talk, the cookies didn't stand a chance.

On his way out of cafeteria and towards the elevator, he ran into someone as he yawned.

"Whoopsie! Didn't see you there, cowboy." They said, sounding drowsy, like they had just woken up.

"It's alright, I wasn't- who the hell are you?"

They were small, round, with short shaved hair, and wearing a nondescript Tshirt under a pair of overalls. One of their hands was metal and glowed with a pinkish energy, and their left foot clunked heavily as they shifted.

"Oh! Right, hello, I'm Olive Sinclair. Winston hired me to be the chef around here. And you are?"

McCree just stared at them blankly for a few seconds.

"Wait, does that mean you're the one who made the cookies?"

"The bizcochitos? Yes sir! They're a favorite of mine. Did you have some?"

Instead of responding, he just leaned over and hugged them tightly and gave a little sniff.

"They were beautiful." He finally said as he stood upright again and tipped his hat. "The name's McCree. If you keep making things like that, I'm not sure I'll ever be going on a mission again, in favor of just eating all day."

Olive laughed a loud, full body laugh.

"Alright, Mr. McCree. Say, how many agents are here right now? I forgot to ask Athena."

"It's just me, Winston, Lucio and Hana. 76 may be coming in late morning, though."

"Thanks, buddy. I've gotta start on breakfast now, so that you'll have it warm when you get up."

He chuckled and let them pass, muttering "I'll be up at high noon." To himself before heading down to the elevator. There may have been a bit more pep in his step than before.

* * *

 

4:30 am marked the time Olive had everything prepped and ready to go. Winston had packed the fridge with ingredients from all over the world, some of which Olive had never seen before. But since they were only preparing for such a small portion of the team, they decided on something fairly simple.

That didn't mean they couldn't make it more complicated than they had to, of course, they did have a few hours before the others would be up after all.

They turned the oven on low and started mixing several different batches of pancake batter, then dying each mix a different color. As the griddle heated up, they considered some designs.

While working on the property, one of the other cooks had shown them how to make pancake art, and while they weren't usually the most talented with a pencil, they found that they had taken a liking to the food art.

Nearly an hour later, they had stacks of colorful pancakes staying warm in the oven, and set about to make a syrup.

Around 6:45, Winston wandered into the kitchen as they were setting out various toppings, and when they saw him they grabbed a banana, and made a gesture to ask if they could cut it up. He smiled and nodded and they sliced it into a bowl and set it beside bowls of chocolate chips and strawberry slices on the counter that separated the dining hall from the kitchen.

"There's so much stocked in here, Winston, I'm not sure what I can do with some of it." They said with a laugh as they took one of the pancake stacks out of the oven and in front of where Winston sat, leaning against the counter.

"You seem to be adapting just fine, though. The cookies were delicious, by the way." He investigated the various shaped pancakes and laughed as he took one out of the middle, that appeared to be a bunch of bananas. He gave them a side-long look and they looked proud.

"McCree mentioned that. I ran into him when I was coming in this morning. He hugged me. I think he might have cried a little."

"He's a good guy, if you don't mind the hat and the spurs."

"He's certainly something strange."

Winston watched them putter around the kitchen, cleaning dishes, setting out plates on the counter, and wiping things down. As he nibbled on his banana shaped pancake, he considered their mechanical hand, what he could see of their metal foot, and the implants in their ears. The latter was difficult to see, unless you knew what you were looking for.

"Do you think you'll like it here?"

"Hmm?" Olive turned to look at him as they wiped flour off of their overalls. They stared blankly at him for a moment, processing, then smiled wide.

"I haven't met everyone yet, but I think this'll be great." They glanced at his half eaten pancake. "Now finish eating, else I wouldn't really be feeding ya!"


	2. Mauerbauertraurigkeit Vladisson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talon gets a little help, as odd as he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dont expect anyone to know how to pronounce his name, thats what makes it fun >:3c
> 
> Every time Mauerbauertraurigkeit speaks Icelandic here its a swear, so I'm not gonna translate him. you can look it up if you're really interested in what he has to say. I got swears from here: http://badukk.livejournal.com/5897.html cause google translate doesnt always work

The base shook violently as another blast exploded outside. For years, this base had stayed off the map and away from enemy's sight. Mauerbauertraurigkeit had never seen it attacked since he had been sent to his prison seven years before. It was about time, he thought.

He stretched out his legs and groaned when they hit the other side of the cell. It had been years since he could stretch to his full length and he really missed being able to switch out his limbs.

The sudden sound of an alarm rang out through the building and the prison block was filled with red light. None of the other prisoners reacted, since there were no other prisoners. In fact, the only person Mauerbauertraurigkeit had laid his eyes on in the past few years was Olive, who hand delivered his meals. They were very nice, and tried their damnedest to cook Hangikjöt, but smoked Icelandic lamb did not quite work with lamb not raised in the traditional Icelandic way. 

He was surprised out of his rocking and thinking when the door to his cell suddenly broke open. Whether if it was from a blast, or a safety precaution, he didn't know, but he wasn't about to stick around to find out. He scrambled up, dipped out of his cell, and when he stood up straight, he heard and felt his back pop several times. He groaned again as his bones seemed to sigh in relief. The hallway was much taller than his cell.

But he could't stand around all day, or overwatch would surely put him back in a cage.

"For his safety," they say, "for the safety of others." They also claim. But it's not like he went out killing people, he only dealt with the already dead!

Now, he had to find his cane. He couldn't ever do anything of any use without his cane. He still had to stoop just a bit in this hall, because of steel beams lower than the rest of the ceiling every few feet. This would do terribly for his stature, if seven years in a too-small cell wasn't enough.

The hallway was still drenched in red light, and the closer Mauerbauertraurigkeit got to the stairs, the louder the alarm got. He did not want to go towards the louder noise, it was making his head spin. But he also knew there was nowhere else to go but up from here. He sighed and started his way up.

* * *

 

Above ground, Talon agents were encroaching on the Overwatch base as the heroes who had been around during the attack desperately tried to protect their base, while also keeping Olive off of the battlefield. The little chef was far too self sacrificing for their own, soft-bellied, good.

Roadhog was holding his own fairly well, but he could heal himself. None of the trained healers were on staff at this base at the moment and Lucio was still an hour off. Some of his teammates were not as well off as he was.

The edgy skeleton man was spinning and shooting again, and Zayara just barely managed to duck behind a wall to get away from his fire. Roadhog was trying to find Junkrat, because lord knows the little rascal would happily throw himself into the firefight unprotected just as quickly as Olive.

Tracer shot past him and then back to him a second later.

"Roadhog! Have you seen Winston? Athena got hacked, and the base's defenses are being shut down!"

"No."

"Ah! Well, if you see him, tell him that, ok? We've got... some stuff here that Talon should not get their hands on."

Tracer was gone before Roadhog could respond to that. He wasn't sure what she was talking about, since the only strange thing here was Olive.

He would have pondered it more, but he heard the distant sound of Junkrat's riptire, so he ran off to find the little guy.

* * *

 

 Mauerbauertraurigkeit was elated. Not only had he found where overwatch had stored his cane, he had also found his proper clothes, which would feel so much better on his skin than the grey jumpsuit that didn't quite fit on his disproportionate body.

After getting back into his fitted suit, he checked to make sure his cane was loaded, and wandered out of the base and into a battlefield. He really didn't  know what was happening, so he just went to speak with the first person he saw.

* * *

 

Everything had gone to shit very quickly when Roadhog reunited with Junkrat. Before, there were just a few Talon agents, but they had another flood of agents come through, and the heroes had been pushed back as far as they could be while Winston frantically tried to get Athena back online.

Junkrat had been too close to his own riptire when it exploded, causing his peg leg to be blown to bits, and his head was bleeding from hitting a wall a bit to hard. He was babbling more incoherently than normal.

A large shadow fell over him and Junkrat, who he was holding. The fucker couldn't walk, no matter how much he said he could.

"Pardon me, ya big fucker, mind telling me what the hell is happening over here? Looks like a gateway to Valhalla out here." A voice above him asked with a very Nordic accent. So many parts of this situation surprised Roadhog since A. There was no one on the base besides the heroes he knew and a very limited staff, B. It was very clear what was happening right now, and C. He was one of the tallest people in Overwatch, and this voice was quite far above him.

He looked behind him, then up. And up a little more.

A man leaned against a fancy cane and smiled down at him. Roadhog was standing at his full 7'3 height, and the man was smiling down at him.

A bomb went off a ways off and the man didn't seem to be fazed at all.

"What are you doing here?!" Winston had just come around the corner and was now addressing the odd man, who frowned at the gorilla.

"Winston."

"What are you doing, Mauerbauertraurigkeit?" Winston asked. Roadhog had never heard a name so hard to pronounce.

"One can only sit in a six foot tall cell for so long, Winston. I needed to stretch my legs."

"You need to get back inside. We can't let Talon get their hands on you."

"I don't think so, ya hairy Frændserðir-" the man cut himself off as he saw Junkrat, who had passed out.

"Is he dead?"

Roadhog wasn't sure what he thought of the gleam in the man's eyes when that left his mouth.

"No, just passed out."

"Ah, a shame. I bet he has some nicely working kidneys. And... oh my, look at your hands, those are beautiful!" The man touched one of his large hands tenderly and giggled to himself.

"Mauerbauertraurigkeit."

"But it looks like this guy is hurt... well, I may as well help since blood loss is not the way to go, ideally. It makes for faulty organs."

He raised his cane, unscrewed the glass orb that sat on top of it, revealing a long needle, and jabbed it into Junkrat's thigh. A moment later, Junkrat woke up and slipped out of Roadhog's arms to fix something together to fashion a makeshift leg.

Zayara walked over as Winston glowered at the man.

"Is he a healer?" She asked.

"Barely." The ape grumbled.

"He healed the Rat, though."

"Not much for him. He's volatile."

"Winston, we need whatever help we can get."

Winston sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"You're right."

Mauerbauertraurigkeit had turned back to Roadhog with another smile, and Mako wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Ey, you big fucking pig, what's you're name?"

Mako couldn't figure out if he should be offended or not. "...Roadhog."

"Oh, code names then? So informal." He frowned for a moment, then shook his head and held out his hand. "In that case, my code name is Vladísson. But really, I only give that name to those who can't pronounce my birth name."

Roadhog didn't reply, but someone leaving the building did.

"Mauerbauertraurigkeit! You're out!" Olive exclaimed as they walked out.

"Olive! You cocksucker! Have you gotten permission to make slime?" He smiled widely and Olive laughed.

"Not yet. Hope you don't mind waiting a bit longer."

"We'll see."

At that moment, the Talon agent Winston called Reaper finally broke through Winston's shield and shot Mauerbauertraurigkeit through the shoulder.

"Ow! You pussylicker, you must have a face only a mother could love!" He held onto his shoulder as a strange ripping sound came from him. A second later, his arm fell off.

"Is it just me, or did Reaper's gun suddenly get a hell of a lot more powerful?" Junkrat asked from his spot in the corner where he worked on his leg.

"It's just you, ya scrawny fuck, that's not even my arm." Mauerbauertraurigkeit picked up the disembodied arm and waved it around. What oozed out of the arm was thick, congealed blood that resembled soupy jello more than what should normally pump through a person's veins. Reaper had stopped in his spot and was staring at the Nord with what may have been disgust. It was difficult to tell with his mask on.

"Now I gotta find a new one. Any dead agents around here, or do I gotta take an ape arm?"

Winston glared at him and didn't reply. No one did, in fact, so he turned to Reaper, who was mumbling into his earpiece. In a few long strides, Mauerbauertraurigkeit towered over Reaper, hefted the arm up, and smacked him across the face with it. Junkrat burst into hysterics behind him.

Reaper growled, but didn't do anything to hurt him.

"We've got a place in Talon for someone like you." He grumbled, and Mauerbauertraurigkeit looked contemplative.

"What do I get from it? Do I get a lab?"

"Yes."

"Dead bodies?"

"Yes."

"An assistant to annoy?"

"... if you want one."

"Good god! You're far more supportive of my exploits than overwatch has ever been! Let's go then!"

"Mauerbauertraurigkeit!" Winston yelled, but ultimately went ignored as he happily followed Reaper away from the base.

"Have fun!" Olive called out, making the heroes look at them oddly. "What? Not like he was having a good time here."

"Who was that, exactly?" Zayara asked when the two left their sight. A few moments later, a ship rose into the air and sped off, and Winston sighed.

"Mauerbauertraurigkeit Vladísson. Probably the closest we have to a real necromancer, and zombie outbreak. If the world ends, I won't doubt for a moment that it's his fault."

"Sounds like a nice guy." Junkrat said as he tested out his new leg. He had made it out of a broken lamp post that had been scattered about the street.

"Oh, Winston is overreacting." Olive said casually. "He's real nice, it's overwatch's fault he's hanging out with Talon now, since you just locked him up in a tiny cage. Wouldn't even let me make stim toys for him. He's been bored and cramped for seven years down there." They rolled their eyes and turned off their hearing aid before Winston could reply. "Don't wanna hear it." They mumbled, then smiled and waved to the junkers before heading back inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> good days/bad days tally:  
> Overwatch- 1/1  
> Talon- 1/0  
> Reaper- 0/100001


	3. Vervain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the village of Urgangurinn. Population: old. The weather today is: blizzards. Tomorrow's forecast is: blizzards with a chance of lightning. Main export: People who wandered into town by accident and now want to escape as soon as possible. Stick around, and you may just get to see something unbelievable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is like my favorite chapter ive written so far, i hope y'all like this hellscape as much as i do.

"We have several interns you could use as assistants, if you just look through their files." An agent was trying to hand Mauerbauertraurigkeit a thick file folder, but he turned his nose up at it.

"Sorry, there seems to be a misunderstanding. When I said I wanted an assistant, I meant I wanted MY assistant. My assistant or I leave."

"We can't just-"

"Bring in my assistant, or I will bring every corpse Talon has ever been responsible for back to life to haunt each killer for the rest of their terribly short lives."

"We don't know who your assistant is, Mr. Vladísson!" The agent cried out, tensing up, expecting some sort of a blow that never came.

"Oh, well that's simple, Vervain is back in Iceland! She'd never leave. Silly little darling."

"I-I'll see what I can do, sir."

"Have a nice trip, ya fucking Yankee candle."

"What?"

"Bet ya'd smell like the shitty American Dream one, too."

Mauerbauertraurigkeit ignored the odd look the agent shot him, instead going back to some notes he was writing, about the corpse on his lab table. The arm he had taken off of it seemed to be having some difficulty making certain movements, and he wanted to find out just what exactly was wrong.

* * *

 

The next person to come see him was Reaper himself. He seemed to be just as grouchy as before. He was probably pissed about being slapped with a disembodied arm, still.

"We're an hour away from Iceland. Where is this assistant you were raving about?"

He looked up from his notes and looked at the time. It had, in fact, been quite a few hours since he was interrupted before.

"Oh, we lived in the northern most town, so it'll still be a ways off. You'll tell we're close when the turbulence gets out of hand. It never stops storming up there."

"You seem... more tolerable than before."

"That always happens when I have something to do besides sit in a small cage for years on end. Keep me preoccupied, and I won't go about slapping you with dead people."

Reaper flinched and grumbled something under his breath.

"We will come get you when we get closer."

"Right-o, you pínulítill tík."

"What?"

"Nothing."

Reaper grumbled again and left, and Mauerbauertraurigkeit cracked a small grin as he thought about seeing Vervain again.

* * *

 

The moment the whole ship was swept harshly to the right, he knew they were close to his home town. Ten months of the year, the snow-scape was wrecked with blizzards, and the other two months switched between thunderstorms and high winds. It was probably the only place in Iceland that actually lived up to its country's namesake. The town of Úrgangurinn was uninhabitable for most of the world's population.

He laughed and made his way out of his lab, having to duck a bit to get into the hallway. Reaper was coming towards him on shaky legs as the ship rocked through the turbulence.

"...we're about to land."

"Good, its about time." He ran his hand through his hair, making it slick back, and grinned down at Reaper. "I assume you're coming with me? You don't want me running off into the wilderness, do ya?"

"Unfortunately I have to go with you. You're going out like that?"

Reaper pointed out the fact that Mauerbauertraurigkeit was wearing little more than a suit vest, black shorts, and a lab coat thrown on top of it all. Not exactly snow-appropriate.

"I'll be fine."

"If you say so..."

"Oh, I do say so."

Reaper sighed, then stumbled as the ship made a very harsh landing. Mauerbauertraurigkeit only rested his weight on his cane a little more than normal, and somehow stayed mostly upright.

* * *

 

When they got off the ship, Mauerbauertraurigkeit walked with purpose out into the snow storm, already seeming to know where to go.

"How do you know where to go?" Reaper asked as he tried to keep up with his long gait.

"The snow blows one direction here!" Mauerbauertraurigkeit yelled over the wind. He held his hair out of his face as he leaned forward against the storm. "You didn't get very far into the storm before landing, so we have to keep going against the wind to find Úrgangurinn!"

Two hours of silent walking went by before they spotted a few lights in the distance.

"Aha! As expected!" He called out to Reaper, who was a few paces behind him. "Keep up edge man!"

As they walked closer to the lights, the snow lessened until they stood in what seemed to be a town square and only a few flakes fell through a light breeze. Mauerbauertraurigkeit frowned at the grey sky.

"Weather's weird right now. Usually it's worse in town."

"Where is your assistant?" Reaper growled as he shook snow out of his metal joints. "I wanna leave as soon as we can."

"Still a ways to my house, tík."

"Your- your house? What about your assistant?"

"She's there!" He responded as he walked down the main village street. There couldn't have been more than twenty wooden shack-like buildings, and no one came out to greet them. It felt much more eerie than most snowy cabins did.

As they left the main part of the town, they trudged up a hill, where two cabins lay. One was small and made of stone, and the other was much taller, and emanated a warm glow of life.

Mauerbauertraurigkeit walked right up to the large door on the taller house, and knocked. A moment later, and a woman just a bit taller than Mauerbauertraurigkeit opened to door.

"Hello? Mr. Jorgesson, if you're back- oh!"

She was intimidating if nothing else. She wore a bear skin throw and an ax hung at her hip, and she looked to be about eighty years old, which only served to impress reaper. He was in his sixties and he tended to literally turn to dust.

"My boy! Mauerbauertraurigkeit! You're back!" She threw her arms around him and he was quickly crushed against her. He just laughed and patted her shoulder.

"I missed ye, mamma. Every minute I was gone."

She let him go, and he stepped to the side to show her Reaper.

"This is a Talon agent. He got me out of prison, and I'm gonna be working with him for a while. But I'm not doing that unless I get Vervain."

The woman crouched down to see Reaper better, which just made him feel tiny. How someone could put up with such tall people, he couldn't understand. Maybe he would ask this Vervain how they do it.

"I gotta thank ye for getting me boy outta prison, but ye gotta promise not to lock him up either."

"...promise."

"Not a talkative one, ey?" She chuckled and stood upright, and ushered them in.

"Come in, you two, it's a bit bitey out there, and ye don't want ol Nick snacking on yer arses. And- hey! What did I tell ya, Mauerbauertraurigkeit, about wearin' that outside? You'll catch somethin'!"

"Aw, ma, if I get a little frostbite, I can just cut it off and get a new limb! I've done it plenty times already!"

"You..." she sighed, shaking her head like she's had this argument too many times to keep caring. "Vervain!" She suddenly yelled. "There's someone here to see ya!"

A door slammed from the back of the house, and very faint footsteps could be heard on creaking floorboards, and Mauerbauertraurigkeit hopped from side to side in excitement. He had a grin on that nearly split his face in two.

A side door opened and a large black figure appeared within the door frame. It turned to close the door quietly, then turned to face them. Or, at least, Reaper could only assume it faced them. Whoever it was, was wearing a black cloak that left everything to the imagination, and something that appeared to be a dog cone was around their head. There was white lace on the cloak, but he couldn't tell anything about the person within.

The said person had frozen the moment they turned around, but after Mauerbauertraurigkeit cautiously raised his hand in greeting, they lunged forwards and was in front of Mauerbauertraurigkeit in a second.

"Hi Vervain, h-how's it been?"

While Reaper hadn't seen it, he definitely heard the hard smack Vervain gave across his face. Mauerbauertraurigkeit was completely silent as he tried to process being hit. He touched his cheek gently, and looked back at Vervain.

"I missed ye too, me Valkyrie." He whispered, as soft as Reaper had ever heard him.

Reaper watched in horror as Vervain lurched forward and enveloped him in a hug underneath the cloak. Not even his head could be seen. After all, Vervain left Reaper shaking in his boots so much so that he was afraid he was going to turn to dust right then and there.

If Mauerbauertraurigkeit's file at overwatch was correct, then he was about eight feet tall, last time they measured him, three months ago. Vervain towered over him, so they had to at least be nine feet.

A choked sob sounded from the cone, and Mauerbauertraurigkeit could be heard under the cloak, shushing them quietly.

"You want some soup, sweetheart?"

Reaper looked up at Mauerbauertraurigkeit's mother, who was smiling down at him without a hint of malice. That was something he hadn't seen in a long time.

"I got lamb stew brewin, and you look like you could use some soup. Those two will need some time."

He sighed and followed her to the kitchen, where the scent of warm bread, butter, and hot stew filled him with a warm feeling he hadn't had in years.

"Ye call me Vladís, sweetheart. Won't go by anything else."

"Vladís... isn't his last name Vladísson?"

"Oh, that's how names work here! His dad skipped out on me before he was born so that why he didn't get his pop's name, but everyone's named after their parents. Except poor Vervain, she decided to take a whole new family name. But that's a story for another time, and a different teller."

She ladled some stew into a large bowl for him, then cut off a slice of bread before sliding it all across the table to him.

"Eat up, I'm sure ye'r freezing from the walk up, and ye ain't a local like my boy."

Reaper slid his mask off and started to eat, though he doubted he could eat the whole bowl. He didn't normally eat food anyways.

"So what can I call ye? I told ye my name."

"Reaper."

"That ain't no name. Tells me nothin' about ye."

"What can you tell about a name?"

"Oh lots. Vladís is from our words that mean the dead and goddess. People often fill their name's meanings, be it consciously or not."

"You saying you're a goddess or something?" He smirked up at her, and she threw the look right back at him.

"Of somethin', that's for sure. An' I didn't get this bear skin from any men in town." She poured herself a glass of a dark brown liquid and sat down across from him. "So what will your name say about you?"

"...It's Gabriel Reyes."

"An' I can see ye've filled yer name out quite nicely, what, with that face fit for an angel, and what-not."

Gabriel stared at her for a moment, letting his stew drip back into the bowl, then sat back, covered his face and let out a full body laugh.

"Y-you! You sly lady!" He chortled, and Vladís sat back with a broad smirk. "I can only hope I'm as smooth as you at your age." He finally breathed when he got his breath back. "But I've gotta wonder what your angels look like if I remind you of one."

"Oh sweetie, Angels ain't pretty things, they're mostly teeth and eyes and wings and can't be looked at with mortal eyes." She took a swig of her drink, "but if ye find somethin' like that pretty, I sure won't judge ye out loud."

Reaper decided he liked Vladís a lot.

"So why'd you name your son Mauerbauertraurigkeit? Sounds like a German name. And a mouthful."

Immediately, Vladís sobered up and Gabriel almost regretted asking. She looked passed him, and rested her chin on her hand as she stared off silently. The light in her eyes seemed to dull as she considered his question.

"There's somethin' this town does to people." She muttered, "It's a town of outsiders, 'n fact, Mauerbauertraurigkeit and Vervain are the first kids born within its borders in 'bout fifty years or so." 

She leaned over her glass and stared at the dark image of her reflected back through brown liquid. "No one sticks around, an' if they do, they're too old to move away. Nobody talks much, unless they need somethin'. I'm sure to you, they're all mad out there. We don't get sun, and that's somethin' humans need to keep sane. Heh, Ms. Welschsdotter thinks I'm some sort o' fairie..." she sighed and put her head in her hands.

"Mauerbauertraurigkeit has kept me goin' through my life. When he wasn't here, Vervain helped, but nothing helped better than his promise of coming back some day." She finally looked up, and there was something in her gaze that Gabriel couldn't describe.

"I don't wanna push him away like I did everyone else. Him or Vervain. So you better bring them back someday, else you'll be regretting so much more than I'm sure you already do."

Gabriel gulped and nodded slowly, making Vladís grin.

"Good boy."

* * *

 

"You'll be stayin here for the night, I won't risk yer thin blood freezing up out in the blizzard that's to come in soon."

Gabriel found himself suddenly buried in a pile of quilts and pillows, and he could hear Mauerbauertraurigkeit and Vervain chuckling at his floundering. Vervain's laugh was wheezy, like she didn't do it much.

"Son, be a dear and go get some more brennivín from Mr. Welschsson. We're gonna need some of his hot stuff."

Mauerbauertraurigkeit's face lit up and he jumped up from his place on the couch.

"Is Kaihra and Kieger still with him?"

"I doubt those two are going anywhere anytime soon. They will be happy to see you."

"Perfect! Vervain! Wanna join?"

The person under the cloak made a strange gurgling sound, and stood. For the first time since he had gotten there, Gabriel saw two hands emerge from beneath the cloak and unbuttoned the top. In what almost seemed to be slow motion, Vervain lifted the cone from around her head, and the cloak followed suit. It hadn't dawned on Gabriel that it was one whole piece, but now it was clear that it was.

The person left standing in the middle of the den defied all logic that would normally come with a nine foot tall creature.

Yes, she was a bit gangly, but every part of her body was in proportion, nearly unnaturally so. Her dark arms had stripes of lighter skin every few inches, and some parts of her body were even darker than other parts. She looked down on him for a good few seconds before Mauerbauertraurigkeit rushed up to her with an oxygen tank with straps, and an air mask attached to it. She took it, and kissed Mauerbauertraurigkeit as she did so, which made him look up at her like she was the moon. She pulled the mask over her face, pulled the straps on the tank over her shoulders like a backpack, and motioned Mauerbauertraurigkeit to follow her out the door.

They left, and Gabriel stood still, trying to figure out whether he should be scared of Vervain or not.

Vladís laughed from the other side of the room.

"She has that effect on people. Yer not the first one."

"What..."

"I just wish those two would stop wearing their short shorts and tank tops outside, one of these days they're gonna loose their heads for good when they fall off."

"Their heads fall off a lot?" Gabriel finally asked.

"You don't really think those are their original bodies, do you? What do you want them for?"

Gabriel suddenly remembered shooting off Mauerbauertraurigkeit's arm outside of overwatch, and how he barely even flinched. He recalled the dark oozing blood that looked like molasses. He distinctly remembered the strong desire to puke from the smell of embalming fluid and rot as he dragged a corpse out of the medbay and up to Mauerbauertraurigkeit's lab.

He shuddered.

"We... heard he can bring back the dead..."

"He's a special boy, I wouldn't have him any other way." Vladís said fondly as she sat on the couch and relaxed, her bones popped and creaked as she did so.

* * *

 

The wind whipped around Mauerbauertraurigkeit and Vervain as they walked hand in hand down the hill and into town. Mauerbauertraurigkeit gripped Vervain's hand tighter, just to burn her warmth into his memory.

"Why'd you take your cloak off?" He asked in fluent Icelandic. Vervain didn't known English as well as he did.

"I was grieving." She responded in the only way she could. Her grunts and whines were difficult to hear over the storm.

"Grieving? What? Why- oh."

"Yeah, my boyfriend asked me out for a romantic picnic under the moon on the only clear night we had seen for months, and he never shows up." She pulled him closer to her as they walked. "I thought you died at first, cause there's no one here you'd cheat on me with. Then I went to your house and mom was devastated. Said a giant ape in armor took you away."

He chuckled. "It's quite a story, though, isn't it?"

Vervain didn't laugh.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, I didn't want to go anymore than you wanted me to leave. They were total assholes, too, except the chef."

Vervain hummed, but they had reached the Welschs siblings' house, and loud barking greeted them when they stepped up to the door. They both smiled at the sound.

"Back! Back, ya mangy demons! Get away from the door!" Mr. Welschsson yelled from inside, and the barking quieted to grumbles, and the door opened.

Harvard Welschsson was a small, round man. Given, everyone was small compared to Vervain and her boyfriend, but this man was especially so. He was a few inches over four feet, and you could barely tell where the black hair on his head ended and his beard started. Only his thick, diamond shaped glasses really stood out on his face - especially in the dark.

He stared up at the two for a moment, then frowned. Mauerbauertraurigkeit was immediately reminded why he had always been a bit fed up with the man who predated even Vladís.

"Who are you?" He shouted over the storm. "I don't give handouts to boomers!"

"Harvard, we've lived here all our lives." Mauerbauertraurigkeit sighed. "I'm Vladís's son. Vervain is my girlfriend."

"Who's Vladís?" He yelled back, and started to close the door, but a woman came to the door, and to their rescue.

"Harvard, I've told you a million times, there's no baby boomers in town. How you can remember to dye your hair, but not who your own neighbors are baffles me to no extent."

Seinhei Welschsdotter was only a few centimeters taller than her twin brother, and certainly had a lot more memory than him. Unlike her brother, she let her hair turn white with age, and she wore hexagonal glasses. She often claimed they were descendants of elves, and that they could bend natural magic to their will. Vervain had never seen any such thing from Harvard, but Seinhe was known around town for eerily accurate, if not vague, premonitions. In fact, Vervain had gone to her when Mauerbauertraurigkeit had been taken, and she had admitted to knowing strangers would come to town with ill-intent.

She shooed Harvard away from the door, then looked up at them and froze.

"Th-the son of the faerie! You're back! The weather told me something was coming, but i could not have ever predicted this!" She excitedly bounced on the balls of her feet for a moment before letting them inside.

"You have been missed by those who have the memory to remember you, son." She said, and they could hear Harvard scoff at her in the kitchen.

"I don't need to remember people, Seinhe, ive got my work to do!" He called out, confusing Vervain and Mauerbauertraurigkeit greatly.

"What does he do for work?" He asked, voicing their confusion for them both.

Seinhe just waved them off and opened their bedroom door.

Two giant blurs shot out of the room and ran straight for Mauerbauertraurigkeit. They knocked him down and viciously licked his face. He laughed and let himself be covered in giant dog slobber.

"They missed you a lot, son. Possibly rivaling your girl."

"That's not possi-blah!" As he tried to talk, he got a mouthful of slobber, which left him spluttering under the weight of the dogs for a good few minutes. Vervain laughed lightly and smiled at Seinhe.

"And you've taken off your grieving robes, I see." The old woman said quietly, just to her. Vervain nodded.

"Do you know what will happen now? People do not usually return to this town."

Vervain shook her head and looked at Mauerbauertraurigkeit fondly.

"I can only hope he will stay for you."

She nodded, and Mauerbauertraurigkeit finally managed to stand.

"Ok, ok, Kaihra and Kieger, sit!" He told the dogs, and they immediately did so, looking expectant.

"Good dogs! Now Kaihra, go steal Harvard's slippers!" One dog barked and trotted away while the other rolled onto its back and wagged it tail.

"Son, what are you telling our dogs?"

"Nothing but a little fun, ma'am." He grinned, and both women sighed, but smiled.

A moment later, they could all hear Harvard yell in the kitchen, and Kaihra came back with a pair of old, tattered things that barely resembled slippers.

"Good dog!" Mauerbauertraurigkeit cheered, and the dog wagged its tail.

"So what brings you down here? I certainly doubt it's for a visit." Seinhe finally asked.

"Mamma wants more brennivín, what with the storm coming in and our thin blooded guest and all."

"Oh? Guest?"

Seinhe wandered into a side room, and they followed after her. A flick of a switch lit the room and revealed shelf after shelf of jars and barrels filled with alcohol. The air was thick with the smell of spices and fermenting potato paste. The dogs didn't dare wander in after them.

"The agent that brought me back is staying the night. He wants me to work for his agency, but I wouldn't without Vervain by my side."

"A good choice. She's been studying up during your absence. No use mourning for something you can't change, right dear?"

Vervain looked conflicted, but nodded.

Seinhe grabbed several jugs from a shelf, and held them close to her as she turned to them again.

"Now, your payment for this is gonna be a recount of what you've done, sir. So get comfortable and tell old Seinhe what the last seven years have been to you."

* * *

 

After a few hours of retelling his imprisonment and answering questions, Seinhe let them go with several pitchers of alcohol.

"Take the dogs with ye, they've been antsy for heavy cargo, and the both of us are like feathers to them." Seinhe said as she shooed them out of the house. The dogs followed them out, and sat patiently as they hooked them up to the dog sled.

"And while you're at it, Vladísson, Kieger's left hind leg has been actin' funny. It may be comin' loose, so if you give them check ups, that would be swell."

He nodded and got in front of Vervain on the sled, and took off.

As a child, when he discovered the magic of sticking body parts together, he began a series of experiments that caught the attention of the village. It started with squirrels and mice. Giving squirrels mouse tails, and Mice squirrel ears. He studied their biology, with just young Vervain by his side, but at the time, she was more invested in the actual bloodshed portion of it.

A few years later, when he was closing in on sixteen, two of the Wlechs's eight sled dogs died. They were thrown into the forest snow drifts, since the ground was too frozen to bury anything. he retrieved them, dragged them home, and stitched them together into one, larger dog with the strength of two. All it needed was a working brain. After a few failed shock treatments, he came to the conclusion that the brains had been dead for too long, and he couldn't do anything unless he got a fresh head.

The third dog died the next week, and he didn't wait for them to throw it to the drifts, this time. He went to their door, knocked, and asked for their dead dog.

Vervain had been appalled, but Harvard shrugged after his hippie rant, and handed the dog over.

This head worked, and after a few adjustments, to include parts of the newly dead body to the other one, they now had a husky nearly three times its original size, and three times as strong.

Seinhe cried when he brought it back to them.

She had, admittedly, thought that he had literally traveled into the afterlife and spoken to Odin himself to get their dogs back, but after some explanations, she came around to the idea of his science.

As the years passed, more of their dogs passed on, and instead of mourning their losses, they were given to Mauerbauertraurigkeit to fix up. They had only had two dogs for years now, and their last modifications had been made with parts of a bear Vladís had killed, but that was seven years before. Mauerbauertraurigkeit could feel their need for new parts the moment they set off up the hill, as they pulled with less force than he could remember. They could still make it up the hill just fine, but he would have to work on them for a bit.

* * *

Gabriel was expecting the two to come back with alcohol, not with dogs.

Given, they had the alcohol, but those... those dogs weren't like anything he'd ever seen.

They burst through the door in a flourish and the dogs bounded in, over the couch, and directly onto Gabriel. Any other sized dog, it would have been kind of enjoyable. But these two were quite literally as tall as him.

They pawed at him with feet the size of his head and licked his face with tongues far longer than any tongue he has had to see in his life.

"Seinhe asked me to give the pups a check up, since it's been so long since the last one. I'll drop them off tomorrow morning when we leave." He overheard Mauerbauertraurigkeit explain to his mother.

"Aye, good plan." She said, "now lets open up some drink! Gabriel, have you ever had Brenniven before?"

"No." He answered from his place under all the dog.

"Good cause this isn't like the commercial stuff. This'll heat ye up inside, outside, upside, downside... all sides." Mauerbauertraurigkeit said as he handed him a shot glass with dark golden liquid at the halfway mark. Without thinking much, he swung it back.

It tasted like cloves and chives, and the bitter alcohol taste was mostly covered up by a woody taste. As it slid down his throat, he could feel it warming him from the inside, but it was a slow heat, unlike the burn of most alcohols.

"Wh-what..." he gasped, and his three hosts giggled.

"If Harvard has any dwarf magic in him, it's gotta show up in his Brenniven." Vladís said proudly. "That, or Seinhe goes back and charms each gallon."

"She doesn't have the time for that, son, she's busy with her own projects."

"What-oof..." he tried to sit up, but one of the dogs rolled over and knocked him back. "What could anyone have to do up here?" He asked as he succumbed to the dogs.

"You think the town would keep living if everyone just hunkered down and never left their houses?" Mauerbauertraurigkeit asked with a raised eyebrow. He handed him another half-filled shot glass, and the fact that vervain and Vladís were filling large mugs with the alcohol did not escape Reaper.

"Everyone has their role, just cause we do not talk often doesn't mean we do not work together." Vladís explained as she sipped from her mug.

"My boy is a bit of a Doctor, and Seinhe is also taught in treating ailments. Her brother makes the alcohol, which is very important here. Mr. Jorgenson is a fisher, and he just recently gained a fresh young man to teach. Poor thing walked into town half frozen when Vervain found him and dropped him on the old croon's doorstep. Townsfolk come to me when they need lamb or wool, cause I'm the only one who can reach the herd of wild sheep past the mountain."

Gabriel shook his head and sighed, and Mauerbauertraurigkeit finally shooed the dogs off of him.

"Heel you two, we've gotta go to the lab."

The two dogs came up to his waist and happily trotted after him down the hall. Vervain followed shortly, two mugs of brennivin in her hands, and Vladís sat on the couch beside him once again. She handed him another tiny glass of the same alcohol she was chugging from a large frosty mug like it was cider.

"Why are you giving me so little?" He asked, slightly offended. Vladís glanced at him from the corner of her eye and snorted into her mug.

"Ye can't actually believe ye could handle this much, boy. Much too strong for yer thin blood."

"So an eighty year old woman can take something that I can't?"

"My blood was made for it. Got the god's blessings running through these veins."

"What makes you say that?"

"Our conversation earlier was interrupted, that's right." She took another sip, then set the mug on her table. "Where had we left off?"

"You don't fear death."

"Death is inevitable. No reason to fear it, aye? Snakes aren't inevitable, so it makes much more sense to fear them. Once you're dead, you don't come back, unless my boy gets ahold of ya... he's turned my world on It's head many times in his life..." she sighed. "Me ancestors... weren't human. Long time ago, before ye were born, before ye grandfather were born, some man down the line decided to marry a Valkyrie. She didn't wanna marry, but she did bear a child before leaving it with him and flyin off to do her own thing. This was me grandmother. Her daughter grew to be me mother..." she sat and thought for a moment. "I thought I'd have a daughter too, but then Mauerbauertraurigkeit happened and he didn't gain the same blood as me. Valkyrie can only be women, ye see."

"So the Valkyrie blood makes you drink more. How come Vervain and your son get to drink a lot too?"

"It's not just a high alcohol tolerance I get, but yes. And they have thick blood. It takes them even longer to get drunk than me. Have you seen them bleed?"

Gabriel didn't think he could stop remembering Mauerbauertraurigkeit's disgusting blood. He shivered and nodded.

"Hard for anything but oxygen to get through that. Whatever me boy did, it keeps them together and sober."

"You've got a weird son, ma'am."

She gave a loud laugh and shook her head.

"Son, you've no idea. Now drink your Brennivin. Won't do ye any good in that glass."

He swung the shot back and coughed as it warmed his face. His vision went blurry for a second, and all he could mutter was a quiet "oh." Before he realized that indeed, this stuff was really strong. Stronger than it really had any right to be.

* * *

The next morning, Gabriel was shaken awake by Mauerbauertraurigkeit.

"Wake up sleepy head! We've got a long walk through the snow ahead of us!" He shouted, directly into his hungover ears.

"Shut up."

"That's no way to talk to your new asset! Now get up! We're riding on the sled down to the town."

Vladís gave him a thick slab of buttered bread on his way out the door and a slap on his back as she called out after them.

"You come back and visit more! Gabriel, you too! I expect visits less than seven years apart!"

"Yes momma!"

"I'll make sure of it, ma'am." He grumbled.

He realized that even though he was outside, he hadn't had to squint in any sunlight, and looked around. The sun must have been up, since it was brighter than the night before, but the clouds above were so thick that barely any light shown through. Any that did, was muted and grey.

At least the worst of the wind had died down.

The giant dogs tied to their sled were just as perky as Mauerbauertraurigkeit, but Vervain looked worse for wear. She gave him a silent nod when he approached.

Mauerbauertraurigkeit was wearing the same suit as last night, but added a long jacket to the mix, probably to appease his mother. Vervain wore olive green army pants, a black top, and her cloak, but it was open so the cone around her head did not enclose her completely. Of the three of them, he reluctantly admitted to himself that she was probably the most terrifying. He put it all on her height, though. If he was nine feet tall, he'd be just as scary as her, he figured.

They put him at the front of the sled, and Mauerbauertraurigkeit steered around him as he tiredly ate the bread Vladís had given him. Even in the freezing breeze, it warmed him slightly.

They stopped at one of the town buildings, and Vervain knocked on the door as he finished his breakfast and put his mask back on. A small woman, smaller than Torbjorn, answered with a tired smile.

"You're lookin' like you had a nice night full of drink, Vervain." She said. She only nodded in return and pointed at the dog sled.

The woman stared at the dogs on the sled, barely even giving Gabriel a second glance, and sighed.

"I haven't seen em that happy in years." She paused, thought, and turned to Mauerbauertraurigkeit. "How about you take them out on your trip. Bring them back when you visit us again?"

"We don't need giant dogs at Talon." Gabriel sighed.

"Are ya sure, Seinhe?" Mauerbauertraurigkeit asked, ignoring his grumbling.

"Yes, we don't have work for them around here anymore. Your mother sometimes takes them, but not enough... and they do love ya."

Mauerbauertraurigkeit ran up to her and hugged her gently, and smiled.

"I'll try to visit soon to let them come home. Thank you, so much."

"Alright, boy, calm down. Let me go back to my rest." She chuckled and wandered back inside, and Gabriel continued to grumble.

"Gabriel, if we keep the dogs, you don't have to do any walking."

That shut him up.

* * *

It took an hour and a half to get back to the ship on the dogsled. When they pulled up, the ramp dropped and Sombra, as well as several agents marched down to meet them. Sombra looked pissed.

"Gabe! You were supposed to be back hours ago! What the hell hap-" she stopped the moment she came face to face with the dogs, and looked to be equal measures horrified and excited.

"Look at these dogs! I don't have to bend down to pet them!"

"Right?!" Mauerbauertraurigkeit said happily as he unhooked them from the sled.

"Wait, no, im mad! You are so lucky I convinced the higher ups to stay for another day, otherwise you would've been deserted! Where were you?"

"I- ugh..." Gabriel rubbed his head and sighed.

"We were drinking, Gabriel would have frozen, had we not stayed overnight." Mauerbauertraurigkeit said instead, as he led the dogs up past her and into the ship.

"You... were drinking..." Sombra let out a huff, then started giggling. "You ignored orders to get drunk. Can you get drunk?"

"I didn't think I could, but this hangover says otherwise." He grumbled and finally stepped off of the sled to let Vervain start to move it into the ship. He was stopped with a grappling hook hitting his chest, in a flagrant misuse of the tool. Widowmaker stalked down the ramp with a glare.

"You were supposed to come back last night, and now there are giant dogs running rampant in the ship. What do you have to say for yourself?" She demanded. Sombra straightened up and had a very fake stern face as she slowly shook her head and wagged her finger at him from her place behind Amélie.

"I'm-" the bright lights from within the ship were starting to make his head spin, and the biting cold outside was not making him feel any better. Amélie tapped her foot impatiently. Sombra was no longer looking at him, instead at something over his shoulder, and he didn't miss the look of horror spread slowly over her face. She tried to discreetly nudge Amélie, but she wouldn't budge.

A large figure Gabriel was now quite familiar with was suddenly in front of him.

Vervain hefted the sled over her shoulder and glared down at Amélie. The blue woman took a step back in shock, since she hadn't seen Vervain, what with being concentrated on Gabriel the whole time. Vervain looked her up and down, then the same to Sombra. While Amélie attempted to glare back at her towering frame, Sombra gave her a small wave. Vervain nodded at her, shoved Amélie to the ground with her free hand, and followed Mauerbauertraurigkeit into the ship. Gabriel sighed.

"Who was that?" She snapped at Gabriel as she scrambled back up, then turned to Sombra, who generally was the best for knowing who people were. She just shrugged.

"According to me, she doesn't exist! She isn't in any database or anything, and trust me, I'd remember seeing anything about a giant like her."

"That's Mauerbauertraurigkeit's assistant, Vervain." Gabriel finally said. He was just a bit shocked that she had stood up for him. Or, at least, that's what he thought she was doing. "She's terrifying."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> good days/bad days tally:  
> Overwatch- 1/1  
> Talon- 1/0  
> Reaper- 1/100001


	4. Olive Gang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olive Sinclair's adventures with some interesting characters around the base. Jack is a white boy who thinks ketchup is spicy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so not all of the ocs in this chapter are mine. Lacy belongs to Galaxy_Rider, Gabriella belongs to Arronburrsir, and Gage belongs to clari_not (all of them are on Ao3, and you can read more about Gabriella on Arron's page, I totes recommend doing that cause Gabby is great and I didnt do her justice in this chapter)
> 
> Also, I have an internship this summer that will be eating up my time, and i wont have access to a computer 24/7 so either I will get the next chapter out before June 2nd, or after August 12th. luckily, chapter 5 is already sort of written. kind of.

Over the next few weeks after Olive came to Overwatch, they were slowly introduced to new members of the team. Agents from all over the world came into their kitchen, and they seemed to all be satisfied by the time they would leave.

Hana and Lucio had been overjoyed at the sight of pancakes that first day, and by eleven the old soldier who called himself 76 (but Winston called Jack) had politely eaten about fifteen pancakes. He had apologized for eating so much, but Olive laughed him off and just told him that they were happy to be appreciated. McCree came by in time for a late lunch of a few pancakes and the start of an experimental dish that Olive wasn't sure they could replicate, since half the ingredients had names they couldn't even pronounce. An abundance of spices they were familiar with over powered any odd taste, though, and McCree seemed to love it, if his three refills were anything to go by.

Winston's concern for Olive's capability of working with Omnics was addressed a few days after they started working, when Zenyatta and Bastion came back from their own missions. Olive knew of Zenyatta's teacher; he was someone that Anxo never shut up about on the ranch. So they were happy to meet him and treated him with even more poise than they normally would have. Bastion seemed happy that they addressed his bird friend as well, and promised to bake some bird seed, so they felt quite accomplished with passing one of Winston's main trails.

Little did they know, the second trail would be a bit... rougher around the edges.

* * *

"Oi, ya got vegemite?"

Olive looked up at the hunched man leaning over the counter. His hair was on fire and there was a fairly thick layer of grime covering his skin.

"I have no idea what that is." They almost invited him back to see if they did have any, like they had done with Hanzo when he went looking for some sort of pickled fruit, but they stopped when they really took in how dirty he was. He left black hand prints on the countertop.

"I would let you back here to check, but you're filthy. Clean up before you eat, or you'll catch something."

He turned instead and shouted across the mostly empty dining hall, making Olive's hearing aid ring.

"Hey Roady! They say they don't know!"

Olive peeked around him to spot who he was talking to, and found a large man a few tables away daintily holding a teacup too small for his hands. He must have gotten the tea from the station on the counter when they were cleaning, but they didn't stock cups like that. He must have brought it himself.

"I won't let him back to see cause he's filthy." They called to him. "You're cleaner, so if you'd like to come back and check, you're welcome to."

"Roady" laughed and stood up after putting his cup down and wandered over. His dirty friend seemed to be pouting for not being allowed back when his friend was.

He lumbered into the kitchen and nodded at Olive, who followed him to the cabinets.

"Winston packed the place with food from all over, but I don't know what most of it is. Sorry I can't be of much help."

Roady shook his head and opened the cabinet, digging through it for a few moments before he pulled out a brown jar with a pale orange lid. He grunted and set it down and dug through the cabinet again.

Olive grabbed the jar he left, and the yellow label screamed "Vegemite" at them in reddish lettering.

"What's this for?"

"Put it on everything back in the outback. It's durable." He replied quietly.

"So you're from Australia? That's pretty cool. Don't know too much about it."

He shrugged and pulled out another jar from the back that looked the same as the one in their hands, but with a yellow lid.

"What's different about that one?"

"The orange lid isn't salty enough."

"Ya can't have Vegemite that ain't salty!" His friend shouted from the counter.

"Well I can't argue with that. What do you want me to do with it?" They asked casually as they grabbed the jar from Roady's hand. He looked at his hand as if the jar would come back if he stared hard enough.

"Ya don't haveta do that! We know our tastes!" The dirty guy said.

"And I am your chef. I should know your tastes too. You like salt, and... old yeast, apparently." They said as they read the label.

"I like mine on toast with some cheese, then. Roady over there likes it on tea biscuits."

"And how do you like your toast?"

The man's eyes lit up and he grinned wide.

"If ya set it on fire it'll be perfect."

Olive laughed, nodded, and set to work appeasing their strange new customers.

* * *

 

Twenty or so minutes later, Olive had a fresh batch of biscuits cooling, and was considering how to go about the stringy man's meal. From the looks of him, lumps of coal would have been great substitutes for bread, but they wanted to try something more impressive.

"What's your name?" Said man asked from the counter, jolting them out of their thoughts. The two had moved back to their table, so his sudden appearance shocked them slightly.

"What? Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself! I'm Olive Sinclair. Winston hired me. You can call me Olive, though."

"You can call me Junkrat! And that's me boy Roadhog, but I call him Roady. He thinks yer cute, by the way." His voice was anything but soft, and they didn't miss the way Roadhog choked on a sip of tea once he said that. They smiled.

"Well you can tell him I think he's just dandy. By the way, do you like crunch on your sandwich?"

"Like sand?"

"I-"

"Sounds like outback food! The grit ads character, Roady says!"

They laughed.

"Well then your food will be almost ready. Go sit down and leave me to my work."

Junkrat wandered back to his table and Olive got out a creme brûlée torch.

* * *

 

Two plates in hand, one filled with an assortment of biscuits and vegetable sticks, and the other housing a crisp sandwich and a larger pile of vege sticks and a dipping sauce, Olive made their way over to their table.

Roadhog seemed pleased with his biscuits, which had been cut into various shapes, including pigs similar to his tattoo, so they moved right over to Junkrat and put his plate down a ways away from him. He gave them an odd look.

They gave him a sweet smile as they pulled their torch out of their pocket, and his eyes went wide. They lit it, held it slightly over the sandwich, and it caught fire. Blue flames danced across the bread, not quite burning it, and Junkrat looked to be over the moon with excitement.

When the flames died down a second later, he looked to them with childlike glee. "Do it again!"

"Next time. It won't work the same a second time around, the alcohol burned off." They though for a moment before adding, "I won't do it again if you don't eat your veggies, either of you."

Roadhog chuckled and lifted his mask just enough to start getting his food into his mouth.

* * *

 

"You wouldn't last a day in the outback, ya know." Junkrat said as he leaned on the mess hall side of the counter. Olive chopped fruit in the kitchen and raised their eyebrows at him.

"Is that so?" They passed him a bowl of pear chunks and he stuffed a handful into his mouth. The only thing that kept him from talking with his mouth full was the reprimanding look Olive shot him when he started to reply. He took a moment to chew and swallow, then jumped right back into the conversation.

"Yer too soft. All smiles and... and, fuzzy feelings. You look like what I feel when I see those pictures of cats layin in sunbeams, ya know?"

They laughed, "no, I don't, please continue."

"Well ya see how even though Roady's soft, but he looks mean? Yer soft but ya look soft too! You'd be someone's dinner by noon!"

"Wouldn't that make me their lunch?"

"I- you know what I mean!"

They chuckled and leaned against the counter.

"So what makes these people in the outback so nasty? You and Mako are angels to me, despite all the grime caked on you."

He gave them an odd look and opened and closed his mouth a few times.

"What do you mean? It's- ya know, wasteland? Junkertown? Radiation?"

"Radiation?"

Jamie stared at them and his jaw dropped.

"How do you not know?!"

"Sorry, Jamie," they laughed, "never kept up with world events, we didn't have tvs in my town."

He frowned and scratched at his head for a moment then looked up.

"Ah, I don't know the story, I can never get everything right, remind me to get Roady to tell ya."

"Alright, it's ok you don't remember, sweetheart." They smiled as he looked down at his lap with a slight blush in his cheeks. They looked up when the doors to the mass hall opened. It was past the usual lunch rush, so either it was someone running late or someone looking for a snack and chat like Jamie was. He was the best customer of their free service, since he liked to talk so much, and liked it even better when he had someone who would reply to him too.

A very tired engineer Olive had met a week before wandered in and sat at the counter next to Jamie.

"Hello Lacy, how's your day been?" Olive asked pleasantly. They didn't miss the way Jamie kept glancing at the engineer, while trying to play it cool. The dirt on his face only did so much to cover his blush.

They held back a snicker as Lacy sighed and slumped against the counter.

"I've been working on some prototypes with Winston the last few days, I think my eye will explode if I have to work on another  mini particle accelerator the next few days."

"Well I don't know what that is, so you're safe with me. Now, you feeling hungry?"

They sat upright again and nodded with a smile. 

"The usual, please!" They glanced to their side and reeled back in surprise when they realized that Jamie was sitting next to them.

"Oh! Sorry, I didn't see you there, Junkrat." They blushed slightly as they waved and Junkrat nodded at them.

"Not a problem! Heh! You've got some stuff on yer cheek-" he leaned over and tried to wipe a streak of oil off of their cheek, but instead left a darker mark as his grime came off onto them. He looked at his thumb, back at them, and the both of them pealed off into laughter.

Olive watched them from the kitchen with a grin. They took a tray of empanadas out of one of the ovens and plated a few for Lacy.

"Here you go sweetheart. These two are sweet and these two are savory. Careful, they're hot." As they handed the plate over, a small timer on the counter began beeping. Olive picked it up and frowned.

"That time already?" They sighed heavily and went back to make sure there was nothing left in the ovens before coming out of the kitchen and locking the door.

"I'm taking thirty, you two behave."

Lacy and Junkrat waved to them in confusion. Neither of them had seen Olive take a break, besides to sleep at night. 

"Do they always take a break now?" Junkrat asked, and Lacy shrugged.

"Well..." Junkrat looked at his lap, furrowed his brows, then looked up at Lacy so quick it almost gave them whiplash. "Ya wanna go get some bubble tea with me?"

"What, like a date?" They teased, but Junkrat looked to the side and scratched at his face awkwardly.

"Oh. Oh. Dude, I-" as realization dawned on them, their eyes grew wide.

"Never mind, it was stupid o' me-"

"Shut up, I didn't make myself a robot eye just to misread somebody. Let's go on a fucking date and see what happens."

Lacy stood, wrapped their snacks in a towel to save for later, held their hand out to Junkrat, and he grinned.

"Can we blow somethin up too?"

Lacy laughed, "let's see what happens first!"

* * *

Sitting on their bed, Olive began undoing the third part to their leg, which attached to the thigh portion of their metal hip and torso. Steam escaped as they took it apart and sat back against the pillows with a magazine.

Before they started reading, though, they pulled up a machine next to their bed and uncoiled a large hose that was attached to it. They opened up a chamber in their metal hip, and connected the hose and turned on the machine. There was a time in their life when they recoiled at the smell every time they had to do this, but twenty years gave someone a while to adjust to new body functions.

As the low hum of the machine rumbled through their room, they settled down with their magazine, ready to spend this half hour learning about the celebrities they did not grow up knowing. It was an old copy, one from around the time they got out of the hospital, so  near the time Jamie was a toddler.

Athena interrupted their reading when she cut through the rumble of their machine with a message.

"Soldier: 76 wants to know where you are, Mx. Sinclair."

"Tell him to ask Jamie or Lacy."

"Neither of them are in the kitchen area anymore."

"Ask him what he wants."

It was quiet for a few moments and Olive licked their finger before turning a page.

"He wishes to speak to you. He heard about your snack and chat."

Olive grinned. Athena seemed to like the fun names they came up with for meals and specials.

"Tell him to wait, but if it's really important, he can come to my room."

Athena never gave a response, but a few minutes later brought someone knocking on their door.

"Come in!" They called as they tried to finish a paragraph before socializing.

Jack, 76, what ever he liked to be called, came in as grumpily as ever. He crossed his arms over his chest and furrowed his eyebrows.

"I know it's called a chat, but I need to know why you have something against me, Sinclair."

"I don't."

"Y-you do. Why else would you purposefully fill my food with inedible spices?"

"You get the same main meals as everyone else, if you come earlier i will cook you something different. But what you get is no different than..." they frowned, "inedible?"

"You know what I mean! It's hot as hell!"

"If you can't take the heat just-" they stopped as their machine began spluttering and they cursed, sliding to the edge of the bed and kicking it a bit with their flesh foot.

"What is that?" All the anger from before left his voice as he really took in the scene of the chef being hooked up to a machine that sounded like it belonged to AOL.

"Cleaning pump."

"Why?" He came forward and leaned over the bed to try to get a closer look at where it hooked up into Olive. They shifted so he could see the inner workings of their torso, and he reeled backwards.

"What the hell, Sinclair? How much of you is metal?"

My left leg, torso, and right hand. I've also got omnic-made hearing implants in my ears."

"What... are you cleaning?"

"My waste."

"Your what?" They shrugged.

"My waste. It's pretty hard to use the bathroom when you don't have lower intestines or an exit point at all really."

Jack frowned deeper.

"What..."

"Don't play in wood chippers, Jack. Now, you're complaining that food is too spicy?"

He slowly nodded, finding it hard to stop looking at their metal torso.

"I can make a separate dish for when I make things spicy. How's that sound?"

"Isn't that more work?"

"Sure, but it's my job to make food everyone likes, and a lot of people like my spicy dishes."

"Im pretty sure I've seen McCree cry while eating your food."

"Trust me, it's a good thing. He loves it. I guess it reminds him of home kind of. You can always request certain meals, Jack, everyone gets special treatment from me." They smiled and patted his arm, and he shuffled backwards with a nod.

"Ok... well, I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Sinclair."

"You can call me Olive, I'm not above your rank at all."

"You run the kitchens for a whole bunch of weird soldiers, most of which have to eat three times more than the average person. I think that deserves some respect."

"Calling me how I want to be called is respectful, 76. Don't you fuss about it."

* * *

 

A few days later, Jack came into the kitchens with a young woman Olive had yet to meet. No one else was around; most of the heroes were out on missions, but the woman looked on edge.

Jack came right up to the bar and leaned against it as he waved the woman over. She wore her dark hair up in a bun, and her skin was dark like Olive's.

"New recruit?" Olive asked as they wandered over to the bar, drying a bowl casually.

"Not exactly. Olive, This is Gabriella Reyes."

The woman gaped at Jack in shock and anger, though why, Olive couldn't understand.

"Ok?"

"She's Gabriel Reyes'-" the woman hit him angrily, and he chuckled as he continued, "Gabriel Reyes' daughter."

"Ja-uh, 76! You said you wouldn't-"

"That's nice, Jack." Olive quirked their eyebrows at him with concern. "Am I... supposed to know who that is?"

Gabriella lowered her fists from where they were poised to continue hitting Jack, and instead stared at Olive in shock.

"Who are you?"

They smiled and held out their metal hand to her. "Olive Sinclair, at your service! I'm here to make sure you're fed and healthy during your time here at Overwatch. Any requests?"

"Olive." They looked over to Jack. "Remember, no chili in mine."

They rolled their eyes at him and nodded, and he nodded at them and Gabriella before leaving.

"He cannot take anything, I swear he thinks Texan chile is hot..."

"That's not even half of it." Gabriella muttered.

Olive grinned at her. "Tell me about it!" They laughed, then continued when she didn't respond. "Really, tell me. I work better when people tell me stories!"

Gabriella chuckled and sat down at the bar with a sigh. She seemed to relax, though why she had been so tense still eluded Olive.

"You know him as Jack?" She asked.

"That's the name on the file Winston gave me. Why does he go by soldier 76?"

"Well I think you're the first person I've met who doesn't know the old face that goes with his name. I thought only the agents got to know who he was, but you seriously don't know?"

"Gabriella, I grew up in a poor town in Mexico. We couldn't even afford a newspaper. I assure you, unless it's about manual transmission, cooking, or how many ceiling tiles are in a Saint Joseph's Hospital room, I don't know a single thing."

Gabriella chuckled and sighed contentedly.

"I knew him when I was a kid. once I switched the sugar for salt. He takes a lot of sugar in his coffee."

Olive gasped as they rummaged through the fridge. They peeked around the door at her in horror. "No..."

"Yep. I blamed it on McCree."

Olive laughed and shook their head in disbelief.

"As long as you don't do that to me,  you are always welcome to come chat here. Sometimes I even host Jamie's and Lacy's dates."

"So you know all the agents?"

"If they've eaten here I've given them the whole spiel. Want some sweet empanadas? They're filled with peaches and just a little chili powder."

Gabriella perked up. "That sounds awesome, thank you."

* * *

 

Roadhog was back in the dining hall, though this time he hadn't brought Junkrat with him. He sat at one of the nearby tables, since the bar stools would not accommodate him, and fiddled with the rings on his left hand. Occasionally, he would let out a deep chuckle, and Olive would smile at the sound.

They put down the pan they were cleaning, checked the timer on the bread in the oven, then left the kitchens to plop down across from him. He jumped slightly at their sudden appearance, and they rested their chin on their hands as they smiled up at him.

"How you doing, Roadie?"

"I'm good." He said quietly, and they both fell into a silence. Olive rearranged the caddie that held a pile of napkins and the salt and pepper shakers. Roadhog watched.

After a few minutes, he looked away and sighed.

"Sorry."

"Huh? Wait, why?" Their hands hovered over the caddie as they stared at him in confusion.

"Not much of a talker."

They considered this for a moment, but smiled back at him. "That's ok, not everyone likes talkin. As long as you're comfortable is what matters. I'm good with just hanging out and appreciating each other's company."

He chuckled, low and gruff, and they got up to bring another caddie to the table to organize. 

An explosion and maniacal laughter  several minutes later interrupted their comfortable silence, and Mako sighed in annoyance. Olive looked on in confusion as he stood slowly.

"I swear I'm more of a glorified babysitter than a body guard somedays." He mumbled, and as he turned around, three ash-covered figures bounded into the dining hall.

Jamie was still laughing, looking down at Lacy in hopes they mirrored his excitement, and Gage rushed forwards the moment they noticed Olive with Mako.

"Olive! You just missed it! Lacy attached a whole bunch of guns to Junkrat's Riptire and - oh man you should've seen it!" Their gaze switched quickly between Olive and Mako, then grinned. "Are you guys on a date?" They turned to Jamie and Lacy again, "hey guys! They're on a date!"

Jamie and Lacy "awed" loudly and Mako covered the eyes of his mask with one hand and sighed.

"It's not a date, Gage. You can hang out. Do you want some snacks?"

Gage turned and nodded as Lacy and Jamie came to stand beside them, also nodding.

Olive wandered back into the kitchen, just as the timer for the bread went off, so they took out the loaves before moving to the fridge for snacks.

The others were chatting loudly at the table that used to only seat them and Mako, and they chuckled as Lacy leaned over to punch Gage's arm in retaliation for a bad joke.

Olive grabbed a few mangoes from the fridge and chili powder from their treasured spice cabinet, and set to work focusing on slicing up the fruit. They jumped when a large hand found its way on their shoulder.

"Need any help?" Mako asked, and they smiled up at him.

"Only if you wash your hands, you grimy lug. No dirt in my kitchen, you know that."

He chuckled and moved to the sinks to get cleaned up while Olive managed to get the mango off of the pits. When he came back, drying his hands, he stood on the other side of the table and watched them for a moment before following their lead as they cut the flesh from the skin. Working together, they easily had a bowl of fruit that Olive then tossed with the chili powder until each chunk was lightly covered.

They waddled over to the sink to wash their hands, making sure he did the same. Then let him carry the bowl out to the others while they checked the cooling bread.

They were glad that there weren't as many people on the base at this point, cause that meant they didn't have to do quite as much cooking, and they could spend more time with the rowdy group a few feet away.

With the ovens off for the moment, and the fresh bread tucked out of the way, they went back into the dining hall and stood between Lacy and Mako with a broad grin. Jamie looked up at them and mirrored the smile, and they could see chili powder stuck to his teeth. He then leaned over to Lacy and tried to give them a messy kiss, to which they laughed and hurriedly pushed his face away as he collapsed into giggles.

Olive laughed at them and looked over to Mako, who was shaking with laughter as well.

Things were going great.

* * *

 

Olive had been working with Overwatch for a good solid few months, yet having the base completely empty was something new. No one was set to come back until the next morning at nine, and they already had several meals planned ahead, so with no one to talk to, Olive finally had the time to wander the base aimlessly.

They had seen a few floors on the preliminary tour Winston had given them when they first signed on, but knowing which rooms were which wasn't something they exactly knew. They didn't have the time to visit people, and if they did, they usually spent it sleeping.

They didn't even know there was a basement here.

They stared at the button in the elevator for a moment before pushing it. Athena's robotic voice piped up when they did.

"Winston is not in his lab, Mx. Sinclair. Do you still wish to go to the labs?"

"Yes please. I won't touch anything, I'm just wandering around."

"Very well."

The elevator dropped, and Olive had to hold onto the hand rail to keep steady. Their prosthetic didn't do to well with dropping floors.

The doors opened to a wide expanse of lab equipment and testing rooms that Olive honestly had no way of comprehending. Delicate equipment was scattered about Willy-nilly, and Olive had to shake their head at the peanut butter jars stashed under one of the desks.

A door at the back of the room caught their eye, and they made their way carefully over to it, but Athena stopped them before they opened it.

"I must advise against going through that door, Mx. Sinclair."

"Why's that, Athena?"

"It could be dangerous for you."

They jiggled the door handle and found it was open.

"I won't touch anything. You can tell Winston that I went in, I don't mind. I'm just exploring."

The A.I. didn't respond, and they pushed through the door, which led to a dusty staircase that led deeper underground. Olive grinned.

The stairs seemed to go on for a long time. They didn't stop until about six flights of fifteen steps down, when all that stood at the end was a steel door. There was a simple lock on the door that Olive just had to turn to open, and as it swung open, lights turned on down the hallway filled with prison cells.

The sound of Olive's metal foot echoed loudly each time they stepped as they made their way down the empty prison block. They didn't like the idea of having a prison on the base, much less having it so far down beneath the earth, but it seemed it wasn't being used.

Halfway down the hall, movement in one of the cells caught their eye and and they turned to see a man curled up in the corner of one, rocking back and forth.

"Uh... hey." They said, and the man looked over at them. His eyes were different colors.

"H-hey."

They walked over to the bars of his prison and sat down, and he looked around wildly, searching.

"No one else is on base right now."

He stared at them, unsure.

"How long have you been down here?"

"Who knows... can't tell time..." he muttered. He had a heavy Icelandic accent. "Are you new?"

"I've been around. I'm the chef. Though I can't say I've knowingly served you."

He gave a weak chuckle. "No. You wouldn't have. Idiots think I'm a criminal."

"Well what did you do to make them think that?" They asked.

He looked over at them for a moment, then straightened his legs until his feet hit the other side of the cell. His legs were unnaturally long.

"Stuck some corpses together to give my trans girlfriend a new, better, less dysphoric body."

"Well that's not something you hear everyday."

He chuckled and shook his hands back and forth quickly.

"I'm Olive Sinclair. What's your name?"

"Mauerbauertraurigkeit Vladísson."

"Mower...bauwer..." they frowned as they tried to shape the words on their tongue. "Mower-bower-trowr? Wow. Uh, that's a, uh... that's a name."

He laughed openly now.

"That's the one my mamma gave me! Most people here give it up and just call me Vladísson."

"Oh, no, it may take me a while, but I'll get it someday. Are you hungry? I can get you some food."

"I'd like it if you just stay here and talk with me for a bit, actually. I haven't been able to talk to anyone about what I like in a long time. Two years, I think, but down here I can't tell."

Olive settled to lean against the bars of the cell and smiled at him.

"Talk away mowerbowertragig-fuck, um... I'll get it, I swear. Uh... what do you like?"

A dreamy look crossed his face as he started talking.

"I've got this amazing girl back home. Known her since I was a little babe. She's just the most beautiful thing I've ever gotten to see. Smart, too! Can name all the edible plants in the forest, and can harpoon a sailfish from twenty meters out. Nine feet tall and just the best girl in the world. I miss her so much. She does this thing, when she's writing, and trying to think of a word, where she sticks her pencil into the seal of her air mask. Makes a pop sound she likes. Drives my mamma bat shit, though."

Olive just sat and listened as he rambled. Perhaps it was bad habit, but they really couldn't see any bad in the guy. He was off, for sure, but that didn't seem to warrant getting locked up.

 . . .

Did he say _nine feet tall_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> good day/bad day tally:  
> Overwatch- fuck i dont know this was a bunch of days lets go with 10/1  
> Talon- 1/0


	5. Vladis Bogaerts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pre-Overwatch, people dealt with problems by running away from them, not by fighting them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was gonna be longer and go into mauer's childhood but i got lazy so im saving it for another chapter lol,, that being said, this takes place before overwatch started, so theres literally zero cannon characters in this one
> 
> Be warned, I don't know much about pregnancy besides what my mom told me about how I almost killed her when I was born cause I made her hemorrhage, so... have that.

Forty-seven years before any of this, Vladís Bogaerts found herself eight months pregnant and stumbling into a perpetually hellish town, charmingly called Urgangurinn. As the name implied, the place was a dump, filled with cold, snow, and rot; and she smiled, because she found it to be the perfect place to raise her child.

* * *

Vladís was born in Belgium to a flighty woman and a man named Griswold. Her mother left long before she could remember her, but her father told her stories of the woman. Stories that could never be true, but were. He told her of ancient gods he hadn't believed in until he met her mother, since she was one. The gods and their children were flighty on earth, and Vladís was no different.

Griswold took her backpacking across Europe, let her see the world. When refugees were turned away at the border, Griswold helped her smuggle people in. The worse the world seemed to be, the harder she fought, and her father was with her every step of the way.

He died in 2021. She was 25. A peace march forced to violence when planted people attacked the police force was the cause. He was too young.

Vladís only fought harder after. She was rage, unbridled and unsupervised. Resisting arrests, starting wars. 

It's how she met Corwan.

He was big, like her. Full of rage, like her. They met at a protest gone awry when they tag-teamed a cop, and a friendship blossomed between bloody fists and a broken tooth on his part. Vladís had the blood of gods, she was untouchable. Except to him. Eight years, they spent together, moving from city to city, smuggling immigrants and helping them back onto their feet. Punching cops when things got hairy. She never realized she looked at him through rose-tinted glasses until she was six-months and he turned that bloody fist against her.

Laying on the temporary kitchen floor, looking up at him as she kept a hand on her stomach, she saw the anger in his green eyes wasn't towards the corruption she fought so hard against, but towards the world itself. His black greasy hair was sleazy in that moment, and she wondered how she had come so far without noticing.

She went to bed alone that night, and for the first time in her thirty-three years, she met her mother.

She came in a dream; golden, white, and covered from head to toe in dirt and grime. She spoke no words, but she held her daughter's face in her hands gently and smiled. She had a large battle mace strapped to her back, and she towered at nearly ten feet tall. When she placed a hand over Vladís' stomach, warmth flooded her very being and she felt safe; but the dream ended far too soon, and with it, so did the feeling.

She left before the sun rose, with nothing more than she could carry, just like her father had taught her.

* * *

The search for a place with the safety from her dream went on for two months and her stomach stretched more with each day. Her feet were swollen from being on them for so long while pregnant, but she refused to have her child anywhere but somewhere safe.

When she caught a ferry to a tiny town in Iceland and heard the rumors of a strange town far north, past the national park wilds, she felt good. The townsfolk warned her that even those is good health rarely made it back, much less a pregnant woman, but the blood of gods ran through her veins, and no one could stop an eight foot tall determined woman.

For days, she wandered through thick forest blanketed with snow, even though it was the summer months. When she broke the tree line, high winds blew from the north, but no snow or fog was brought with it. She could see distant lights of a town, and she smiled.

All she had to do, of course, was walk over a bridge of ice, barely a few feet wide.

She had come this far, though. Her belly ached, her feet were swollen, she had puked five times in the forest, and she could see her destination not far away. She wasn't going to let the world fuck her over then and there with a little bridge.

Without a trace of hesitation, she took a step onto the bridge, and another, and did not once look down. Only forwards, to the tiny town.

When she did cross the bridge, she looked back once, but found her trail was blocked from sight by the raging blizzard the north winds blew in. Not a single tree from the forest was visible through the snow and fog. She grinned.

* * *

The town was small, and looked new despite how much it smelled of rot and mold. But it felt like her mother's touch, so she smiled and breathed a sigh of relief.

And then a very tiny black woman approached her.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

"Well, I came to have my child here, if you don't mind."

"Your child." The small woman looked at her bulging stomach and reached out to it before hesitating.

"May I?"

"I don't see why not."

She pressed her hand against her belly and closed her eyes, before gasping and stumbling back.

"You have powerful blood, are you a fairy?"

"Fairy? No. But-"

"This is a blessed day, ma'am! Two pregnant women so close to their dates, in town at the same time! Mulogo will be thrilled! Come!"

Vladís followed, since she had no idea where else to go from there. 

"Who is Mulogo?"

"He made this town, ten years ago. He is a good man."

Vladís let the odd woman lead her up a hill to a small stone hut, and they burst in without any warning. Vladís had to duck to enter, but could stand straight while fully inside.

An older black man with a greying Afro was yelling at a young couple. The woman looked to be pregnant as well, and was hiding behind the man beside her with a grimace.

"I did not travel the world in my days to have you just waltz in here without knowing the laws of the land!" The older man screamed. "You've put us all in danger! Your wife, your unborn child, this entire town! The spirits of this land will curse us! I told you not to come and yet-" he stopped when he realized that the small woman had brought Vladís inside.

" _Seinhe_." He murmured softly. "Seinhe, who is this?"

"She came to have her child here!" The woman, Seinhe, said happily, and Mulogo heaved a great sigh before sitting back in a recliner near his fireplace. He put his face in his hands and slowly shook his head.

"The blizzard is meant to keep people like you _out_. Make the town invisible. This land is cursed, why must you young folk mess with the spirits so?"

"If it means something to you, there was no blizzard when I was looking for this town. I could see the lights as soon as I left the forest."

The couple and Seinhe looked at her in confusion, and Mulogo slowly raised his head.

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't see a storm until I crossed the ice bridge, and it stormed behind me, like magic. But before that, there were only strong winds. I could see, though. I was not lost."

Mulogo stared at her, but his eyes drifted as he considered her.

"Perhaps... i can speak with the elves. If the town allowed you to come, perhaps the land is not as cursed as I thought." He stood and stumbled towards the front door. "Don't wait up for me, I've got to go speak with the spirits of the hills."

He slammed the door, and the young couple turned to Vladís curiously. The man stepped forward and held out his hand to her.

"I am Tendaji. I'm sorry about my father's rudeness, my wife, Asha, and I thought he would like to see his grandson's birth, but..."

"It's fine, Tendaji. It must be hard on you both to have come all this way, only to be yelled at like that."

Asha smiled softly and nodded.

"It's quite a first impression, isn't it?"

"How far along are you?" Vladís asked her, and she grinned as she stroked her large belly.

"He should be coming any day now, I'm less than a week away from nine months."

"I've still got a month, I hope it goes well for you, though!"

Seinhe cleared her throat, catching their attention.

"You all must be tired from your trips, my brother and I have some extra space you can use, if you wish."

Vladís nodded readily, not passing up the opportunity of a warm bed. Asha looked at her husband, and he nodded at her.

"You go ahead. I'm going to wait for my father to try to talk this over with him."

* * *

Seinhe's house was half buried beneath snow, had a small attic, and an expansive basement made for storing and distilling alcohol. There were two huskies in the front room, napping with a litter of young pups.

"Mulogo founded this town ten years ago, after he sailed the seas for years before. Harvard and I were part of his adventuring crew! When Harvard, oh, he's my twin brother, you know. When he started loosing his memory early on, Mulogo set to work trying to find a cure. He says there is something in this land that will heal him, but he hasn't found it yet, and he won't tell us. But he made the town so he could search!"

"How long have you known him?" Asha asked.

"Oh, great question, darling! We met him when he was just starting out, he was nineteen, a sophomore in college! Harvard and I were freshmen. See, Harvard and I were born here in Iceland, but we went to school that year in Turkey. Mulogo was an art student, he built his own boat, and invited us on a little sailing trip that turned into a very, very long voyage... hmm... so that's about thirty years now."

"It sounds like an eventful life." Vladís said softly as they reached the attic. There were four beds shoved to the corners, and paper screens between them to give a sense of privacy.

"I thought we would have more visitors than we've had, so I keep some beds up here just in case."

"It's lovely, thank you Seinhe." Vladís said, and Asha agreed.

"I'm gonna go make dinner, I'll call you when it's ready. You two just rest for now."

She left, and Asha sat on a bed in the northwest corner. Vladís set her stuff down on the south bed closest to the door and laid down with a heavy sigh.

"Vladís?"

"Yes Asha?"

"Why did you come here of all places to have your child?"

Vladís rested her hand on her stomach and stared at the ceiling.

"My mother told me to find somewhere safe, and this place called out to me. I couldnt tell you why."

"What's your mother like?"

A small, dreamy smile crossed her face.

"She's a warrior. Bigger than me, and my father always called her a goddess on earth. I've only met her once though, in a dream."

Asha was silent.

"But my dad, he told me great stories about her, from before she left. She fought for what was right, and sent dirty men to hell."

"...my mother always cooks me amazing shawarma. I think my soul transcends the physical plane when I eat it. Especially during my pregnancy." They both went quiet for a few moments as the wind outside made the house creak.

"I wish Tendaji didn't make me come up here... I'm afraid traveling so late in the pregnancy may have caused problems for the baby. And all the talk about cursed lands..." she sniffed. "I just don't know what to do."

"Well, I'm hoping to stay here for a while, so I hope we can help each other."

Vladís couldn't see Asha through the screen separating them, but she could hear the giggle in her tone.

"Thank you."

* * *

The next day was a hurricane of chaos as Asha went into labor shortly after lunch, and Mulogo returned from whatever spirit quest he had gone on in the mountains.

As Seinhe tended to Asha on her bed in the attic, and Vladís let her grip tightly to her hand as her contractions grew closer together, Mulogo and Tendaji burst in while burning some sort of herb.

"As I thought." Mulogo muttered as he set up piles of smoking herbs in each corner of the room. Tendaji went to his wife's other side and stroked her hair gently as she sobbed.

"Let the elves see! They must be able to know we won't try anything!" Mulogo shouted as he threw the window open, and snow began piling on the sill. "This is going to be rough, since they do not want you here, but we can make it work. Seinhe, do you remember the birthing ceremony from those southern isles during the fifth year of the voyage?"

"Yes, how could I forget that? It was incredible!"

He nodded and went over to stand beside Vladís. "Good. Recreate that."

Seinhe began softly chanting something Vladís could not understand, and Mulogo tied a plant on a silver thread onto the headboard of Asha's bed. He glanced over to Vladís and frowned.

"I assure you, ma'am. Your birth will not be as complicated as this one. The elves and spirits  _want_ you here. I just have to assure that they won't kill my grandson the moment he enters this world."

Vladís smiled.

"I assure you, sir, I wouldn't mind this at all. I'd be happy to let the spirits here know I mean no harm and that I will do what is needed to keep them happy." He gave her a long look then chuckled and ruffled her hair.

"No wonder they favored you, you suck up."

"I try." She smirked, then looked back to Asha as she screamed. Seinhe stopped her chant and pressed a hand to Asha's belly.

"Alright, I'm going to count to three, Asha, and when you feel me press on your belly, you push!"

Seinhe took a deep breath, and whispered something under her breath before pushing on Asha's stomach. Asha screeched in pain.

* * *

The labor was hard. Asha lost a lot of blood, to the point Vladís thought she had hemorrhaged, but the birth went on. Her hand would have been broken, had she not been stronger than the average human. Asha's grip was hard, and Tendaji had to slip out of it half way through.

But the birth didn't end with a baby's cry. Asha's grip left Vladís' hand before she even realized it was over. She looked over to Seinhe for the first time in over an hour, and saw her kneeling on the floor, washing a chubby baby in a bowl of warm water. Mulogo handed her a towel and blanket, and a few moments later, she held a small, huffy bundle.

She stared down at it with teary eyes and a smile.

"He's a blessing."

She came to stand by Tendaji and handed the baby to Asha, who was frowning.

"Why isn't he crying? Don't babies cry?" She asked as she took him. Vladís looked over at him and smile at his dark scrunched face. When he looked up at his mother, his eyes were large and dark.

"Not always. What matters is he is alive."

"Something is wrong." Asha said as she unwrapped the blanket. Tendaji tried to stop her, but she shook him off when she saw the entirety of the child laying in her lap.

"What is this." She hissed, and Vladís stared at the baby boy. He made no sound, only stared at them with big eyes and made a soft huffing sound.

"I did what I could to save him, Asha. The elves take, usually more than we would like. But they can be bargained with, if you know what they like."

"This is bullshit! I didn't carry him around for nine months to have half a child!"

"Asha, that is far more than half a baby in your lap." Mulogo was growing annoyed.

Vladís reached over to the baby, and his eyes followed the movement of her hand as she gently lifted his left arm. It stopped at the wrist, no hand, just a stump. His other arm ended in a mottled hand, curled and incapable of any movement in any of the four fingers that had partially developed.

Asha messily wrapped the baby back in his blanket and stood. Tendaji stood quickly, trying to keep her in bed, but she wasn't having any of it. She shook him off and stomped up to Mulogo. She pushed her baby into his chest until  he took him in his arms, and she glared sharply at him.

"You worked so hard and wound up with something broken. Good luck raising that. I'm leaving this disgusting wasteland."

Tendaji ran after her as she left, stumbling and weak from the birth, but determined all the same.

Vladís stood and walked over to Mulogo, and gently pried the boy out of his tense arms. She went quietly to her bed, and swaddled him properly.

"Hello little one. I'm sorry your first moments were those."

Mulogo, snapping out of his daze, slowly made his way over to her and sat beside her on the bed to look at the baby.

"What do you think his name should be?" She asked.

"...Tamrat. It means Miracle."

"It's perfect." She smiled, and handed him over to him. He took Tamrat gently and they just stared at each other for a few moments.

"Tamrat and Mauerbauertraurigkeit."

"Hmm?" Mulogo hummed as he finally broke their gaze.

"My child. Their name will be Mauerbauertraurigkeit."

"That's a mouthful."

"Yes, but it's my mouthful. It means a lot to me. I... this is a new chapter in my life. It took being pregnant for me to realize that."

* * *

The next day, Vladís finally met Seinhe's twin brother, Harvard. Like his sister, he was small, but he was very different than her welcoming nature.

He hadn't been around before; Seinhe said he often wandered the woods for days on end, and Vladís didn't worry about that until she actually met him.

She came down to the kitchen, slowly, and much to Seinhe's displeasure. She shouldn't have been on her feet at this point in the pregnancy, but sitting and doing nothing all day was far from what she thought was a decent way to spend her time.

She hadn't  expected to see Harvard in the kitchen, much less his verbal abuse the moment he saw her. Perhaps she would have been more offended if she could understand him, though. He screamed at her in tongues, and as he turned red in the face, she couldn't help but laugh.

Her laughter brought his rant to an abrupt end as he stared up at her in confusion, and what may have been awe.

"Perhaps you are not who I thought you were." He said quietly. "Do I... have I known you before?"

"I'm sorry." Vladís giggled as she tried to catch her breath. "No, you don't know me. I'm Vladís Bogearts. I just came to town recently. Your sister let me stay upstairs."

"We have an upstairs?"

Vladís thought he was joking, but the clear confusion on his face said otherwise, and she kept herself from laughing again. Seinhe had failed to tell her anything of importance about her twin, so she couldn't know if he had trouble showing sarcasm, or he truly didn't know the layout of his own home.

"Yes... are you feeling ok?"

Harvard sat down at the kitchen table and stared past her, which was quite the feat, considering she took up so much space in the small house.

"I... hmm..." he reached for a brown bottle and uncorked it, releasing a spiced scent. He sniffed it once, looked into the bottle, then took a long drink. When he set it down and closed it again, and stared up at Vladís in confusion and furrowed his black bushy eyebrows.

"Who are you?"

"I... already said, didn't I? I'm Vladís Bogaerts."

He squinted. "How did you get in my house."

"Where is your sister?" She asked.

"I have a sister?"

A door in the back of the house slammed shut, and Seinhe wandered into the kitchen, and her eyes widened at the sight of Harvard.

"Oh! Harvard! You're back!"

He turned to her and stared at her for a long time before nodding and staring at the table as if it held many secrets. Seinhe motioned to Vladís to follow her into the living room.

"I'm sorry if he caused you trouble."

"No, it's fine. He just surprised me. Is he..."

"He... well it runs in our family. The men in our family, that is. Alzheimer's. His developed very early, and we came here to give him a less hectic world to live in while he had to live with it."

"I see." Vladís said with a nod. "I'm sorry."

"His walks usually make things a bit better. Mulogo won't tell me exactly why, but there are certain things he doesn't forget after those walks, and one of them is my face. He is good with faces he knew before it started setting in."

"Such an odd thing..." Vladís murmured as she watched Harvard move about in the kitchen. He seemed to be screwing a box together.

"Yes, well, don't be offended when he forgets you by noon." She gave a sad chuckle. "Or sooner..."

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Vladís asked, quickly changing the subject, and Seinhe frowned.

"Goodness no! You shouldn't even be up! Why won't you just sit still?"

"I don't like taking up space without helping out."

"Fine! Fine. Do you know how to sew?" When Vladís nodded, she sighed in relief. "It would be nice if you could patch some curtains and stuff. You can stay in the front room so you don't miss anything. As if anything exciting would happen."

Vladís smiled wide and nodded. "Thank you, Seinhe, I'd be happy to."

* * *

That's how the month passed. Vladís did small chores for the twins as she sat on their couch, only straying from the routine to help Mulogo with Tamrat.

When her water finally broke, they were well prepared; and though the labor was long, by the end of the day Vladís was cradling a healthy baby boy with a full head of hay blond hair and an eye from each parent - one blue and one green.


	6. Vervain's Cannon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vervain finds some trouble to get into while working at Talon. Mauer worries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this instead of worrying about the fire that may or may not force me to help evac 30 children out of summer camp and to an as-of-now unknown location. we're prepped for it, but evac means I have to leave all my stuff behind and that is... not ideal. I'm a material guy, and i dont want all my weird clothes to burn. tent? fine. hammock? i guess. books? not great, but i can deal. my weird cursed clothes and ukulele from a dead guy? I dont want to part with those, no way.
> 
> (I'm an outdoor educator, and have been working at an unplugged camp for 2 1/2 months, kids are supposed to go home in two days, so this shouldnt even be that big of an issue. also, I really want to go home, I'm so tired.)

Living on the Talon base was strange for Vervain. Located deep in the American Southwest, with its red sand and mesas and actual honest-to-God tumbleweeds, she wasn't used to it. She didn't even know the sky was supposed to be blue.

Clear days in Úrgangurinn meant the sun broke through the thick layers of clouds enough to make the snow bright and blind you. She had never once seen a clear blue sky.

And now she was seeing one everyday, along with an explosive sunset every evening. Barely any clouds were ever in sight. When there were, they were light, fluffy, and looked like they were suspended in a clear gelatin. 

And it was hot. Oh god, the heat. 

Even with a cooling system hard at work, she was sweating most of the time. Her comfort temperature was around 10 degrees Celsius. Outside the base was easily reaching close to the high thirties. She could see the heat waves on the horizon line if she looked out the window.

She threw her head back and groaned from her spot directly under the swamp cooler in Mauerbauertraurigkeit's lab. He had been tasked with including small doses of his life serum in every first aid kit on base. He was intently measuring the exact doses into tiny bottles so that anyone could inject the serum, in case of emergency. The dogs were still asleep, in their shared room.

" _Ya don't haveta stay here in the lab, Verv_." He said suddenly, his Icelandic a welcome change from English spoken too fast for her to understand.

' _It's hot.'_  She squeaked out. "' _'m melting.'_

" _Awe_ ," he stood straight and pursed his lips at her with a pitying look. " _I'm sorry, I forgot how terrible the rest of the world is, temperature wise. I'm sure there's cooler rooms though. Maybe there's a pool_."

' _I barely know how to swim, Mauer. Not something we learn. I know how to not fall off of cliffs, and how to identify every edible plant that can survive in -40 weather. Not how to swim.'_

" _Right_..." he leaned back on one of his counters and seemed to think for a few moments, before bolting up with a bright expression. " _The sample lab! I saw it on the way in, you were distracted with not getting hit by the lights. They gotta keep the samples of old earth plants and other matter cold, I bet it's just to your liking."_

Vervain hummed and nodded. She rolled her shoulders then ducked out of the room with nothing more than a small wave. Mauerbauertraurigkeit watched her leave with a smile and a sigh.

* * *

As she walked the halls, Vervain became very aware of two things:

1.) Everyone avoided her as much as they could. No one came close to touching her, and nobody tried to talk to her to ask where she was going. One agent even stopped mid-sneeze until she passed him by with barely an unimpressed glance. And;

2.) Everyone had a weapon. Most were personalized in some way; from special paint jobs to looking completely home-made. It made her curious.

She didn't know what these people did at all, she only put up with them because they got her boyfriend out of prison. But after seeing some outrageously designed weapons, from an electrified whip to a cannon that could be held on a person's shoulder, she found herself growing just a bit jealous. 

After winding her way through the base for an hour, she found the sample lab Mauerbauertraurigkeit had mentioned, and ducked inside. Cool, refreshing air immediately hit her face and she sighed in relief. She stood still, just tilting her head back to let the refrigerated air wash over her.

"Um, e-excuse me? Miss?"

She blinked and looked down at a scientist standing before her, wringing his hands together nervously.

"Do you need anything?"

He spoke too quickly and softly for her to understand what he asked, but the slight inflection of his voice at the end told Vervain that he was asking something.

"Miss?"

She hurriedly reached into her pockets and pulled out the small notebook and pencil she carried around in cases like this. She wasn't a fan of pictionary, especially when she couldn't entirely understand the other party's guesses, but it was her only way of communication outside of Mauerbauertraurigkeit.

She quickly drew a picture of a sun, with heat lines coming off of it, and showed it to the scientist. He peered at it curiously with his hand on his chin.

"Sun... light? Uh... squiggles, oh! Heat? Are you hot?"

He spoke slow enough for Vervain to understand, finally, and she nodded.

He sighed, looking relieved.

"We saw you come in with Reaper, looking all chummy. Thought he sent you here for something."

She stared at him blankly. He started to sweat under her gaze, and she realized that, again, Talon did not tell every one of its members about her disabilities.

She drew a mouth with an X over it, then two ears. Next to one ear, she drew a simple outline of America, and put an X by it. The other ear got the word "Iceland" next to it, in Icelandic. She handed the notebook to the scientist.

He studied the page seriously, eyes darting from each drawing to the next, trying to figure out what was being said. He wandered to a desk and sat down, so Vervain took it upon herself to claim a spot at a long table with notes scattered across it.

"Mouth and X, that means you don't speak, or can't speak, right?" He looked to her and she stared back at him blankly, once again.

"I'll take that as a yes. Now the ears... listening, hearing... what is this language? Gaelic? Hmm..."

Vervain ignored his mutterings and leaned her head back and enjoyed the chill in the room.

There were two other scientists in the lab at that point, and Vervain watched as they wandered over to the first to figure out her fairly straightforward message. She cracked a smile as they over-complicated each stroke of her pencil. She propped her feet up on the table, away from the notes, and leaned back in her chair with a sigh. As she drifted off in the breeze of the cool air, she smiled.

* * *

She woke with a start twenty minutes later when the door to the lab slammed open and the scientists scattered back to their stations, her message left on the desk. She looked over her shoulder lazily and lifted a hand in greetings to Reaper as he strode towards her.

"Mauerbauertraurigkeit said you'd be here."

' _Hot_.' She squeaked, and Reaper didn't respond. Of course he didn't, her language was like trying to decipher a bird call.

Instead of waiting for a response, she got up to retrieve her notebook and pencil and wrote what she said on a new page and handed it to Reaper.

In an attempt to help her with transitioning from Urgangurinn to the Talon base, Reaper had taken some time to learn some very basic Icelandic. He still had a long ways to go, but he could read her messages and she could understand him better than the English speakers.

He looked at her message, then at the little game of pictionary she had made for the scientists and chuckled, deep and rumbling.

"Fredrick."

"Y-yes sir?" The first scientist asked, jumping up to stand in a military fashion.

"This is Vervain. She's the lab assistant of the man we brought in. She is mute and cannot understand English well. She only really understands Icelandic."

"Oh. Oh, hello Vervain, lab assistant did you say?" Fredrick asked. Reaper nodded with a solemn grunt. He smiled up at her brightly.

"What area of study are you in? Do you know anything about biology? Have you ever-"

"Fredrick."

"I-oh, right. Sorry." He bowed his head at them and Vervain chuckled at him. Gabriel turned back to her and handed her notebook back.

" _Anyways, Vervain._ " He continued in Icelandic, catching her full attention. " _You're not busy, so come with me_."

She wrote a quick question mark on the page and and he sighed.

"I don't know the words in Icelandic." He tried to explain, but she wasn't having it. If it meant she had to go back into the hot base, she wasn't leaving unless it was actually important.

" _Fine, we're... getting you... uh, fitted for a..._ " at this point in his floundering, he just pulled out one of his rifles and pointed at it.

Vervain pointed at the gun then at herself and quirked her eyebrows up questioningly.

" _All agents need to have some sort of training... with, uh..._ " he was quiet as he tried to think of the word he was looking for but sighed as he found himself at a loss and just continued in English. "Uh... gun."

Vervain threw her head back and let out squeaky, wheezing laughs at his attempts. She nodded and wiped at the tears that collected at how hard she laughed, and let him lead her out of the lab.

* * *

The practice range was in one of the basements, below the level full of prisoners of Talon. Vervain didn't know who the people locked up were, or what they did to warrant being locked up, but she also didn't exactly care. They had to walk through the hallway of jail cells to get to the next elevator down, though, so she was forced to see and smell them. She expected Talon made the elevator down to the range separate from the main one just so the agents could walk through and torment the prisoners.

Reaper did no such thing as they walked in silence, but that may have been because as soon as any of the prisoners saw her, they scurried to the backs of their cells like frightened mice.

She ducked under another low hanging light at the end of the hall and they were finally at the elevator.

She wrote a quick note to Reaper.

- _is Talon always so extra like that?_ -

He chuckled and nodded as they stepped into the elevator and went down to the range.

* * *

They entered the mostly-empty arena, and came face to face with Doomfist.

Well, face to torso, in Vervain's case. She stared down at the new man, and raised an eyebrow as he stared back at her. He slowly let out an impressed whistle.

"You said she was tall, but damn. Didn't expect over seven feet, Reaps."

Vervain rolled her eyes and walked over to a rack of guns. There were many she could choose from, though most were too small. She finally settled on a cannon sitting next to the rack.

It was half her height, meant to be set on the ground to fire, and weighed well over a couple hundred pounds. Doomfist had followed her over to the rack after he talked with Gabriel, and he tried to stop her when she reached for it.

"Hey, uh, that's not really beginner material. Maybe wanna try a hand gun?"

She just ignored him and lifted the cannon with ease, and propped the bottom on her hip. Doomfist's eyes were wide as he took a step back.

"Oh. Ok. Well, guess that fits you. I'll set up the course for you." He made a weird expression at Gabriel, which Vervain chose to ignore.

Instead, she walked towards the firing range and waited for the practice to start.

It started slow.

Back in Urgangurinn, she often helped Mr. Jorgenson with fishing. He would drive his boat through the crashing, angry waves, and she manned a crossbow-style harpoon on the deck. She had to aim for sail fish and the like through wind, rain, and murky depths, not to mention the constant rocking of the boat.

A firing range was almost too easy for her.

She didn't know exactly what they wanted from her, but before the five minute timer could go off, all of her given targets were nothing more than charcoal and smoke. She turned, and Doomfist was standing to the side, looking stunned.

"Is this... your first time with one of those?"

Gabriel tried his best to translate, and she shrugged, taking out her notebook. She hastily drew an harpoon, and showed him, and he raised his eyebrows.

"A harpoon isn't really the same thing, but I'll take it. You like heavy weaponry?"

She nodded.

"I'll keep that in mind. So, you can shoot, but how's your hand to hand?"

She stared at him. This was stupid, it wasn't like she and Mauerbauertraurigkeit were going to fightright? He seemed to sense her confusion and sighed.

"We gotta make sure you can fight, in case of attack. Everyone is expected to be able to do something to keep overwatch from taking us down."

She growled at the mention of Overwatch, and he chuckled.

"That's what we want to hear. Now, come face off with me on the mat."

She followed him when he waved and made his way across the room. She followed his lead as he took off his shoes before stepping onto the mats for hand to hand combat training. She also took off her cloak and fiddled with the straps to her air tank.

"You can't fight with that on, take it off." Reaper, who was following at a safe distance, continued to translate as best as he could.

If there was one thing she could say, she'd very much like it be a snarky retort about needing to breathe to fight as well.

But then again, it was meant to help her breathe in a cold, high-altitude area. Perhaps having more of an atmosphere pressing down on her lungs would help her breath better.

She warily took off the mask, and took in an experimental breath. It was warmer than she was used to, and she could feel how much drier it was for her lungs, but she could breathe. For now.

She dropped the tank next to her other stuff and rolled her shoulders. Having that weight off her shoulders would make her movements faster, anyways.

Doomfist was in position in the middle of the mat and she mimicked him to the best of her ability.

"You shoot well enough that you won't have to depend on hand to hand, probably. Especially if we can get you a cannon."

She didn't know what he said, but Reaper didn't even try to translate so she chose to ignore it.

He quickly jumped forward and got a punch in, but he hit her torso, and between her muscles and body fat, that just wasn't a place you wanted to punch if you wanted to actually hurt her.

She looked down at him and realized that even if he couldn't hit her more damageable places, she'd still have to bend down to hit his. She felt like she was trying to punch a child in the face.

Not like that would stop her though. She never dealt with kids, besides way back when she was one.

She reached down quickly, wrapped her hand around his throat, and lifted. He was heavier than she expected, and only managed to get him a few inches off the ground, but it caught him off guard and that's all she needed to bring him to the floor. He gasped when her hand left his neck, but before he could regain any sort of composure, her bare foot was hurtling towards his face in a terrifying stomp.

He was just glad she wasn't wearing her heavy boots.

"Stop, I give! Uncle!"

She stopped her foot, and he breathed in a sharp breath when the arc of her foot just barely scraped across his nose, then he let out a laugh.

"Well aren't you just a powerhouse?"

Reaper chuckled as he translated, and even Vervain let a smirk light up her features.

"Vervain!"

They turned to the elevator, where Mauerbauertraurigkeit stood, panting, looking ruffled. He stared at them, and they stared back, perplexed at his sudden appearance.

"Gabe said... said you're fighting... you gotta... you can't do that without your air!"

' _Clearly I can. I am the last one standing, so I can not only fight, but also succeed at fighting without my air.'_

" _Oh don't give me that!_ " He shouted in Icelandic. Doomfist sent a confused glance at Gabriel, who just sighed. " _I know those lungs better than anyone! I built your body, I know it's limits!_ "

' _You also were gone for seven years. You don't get to suddenly be here and know what's best for me now! You don't know what kind of training I did in that time, you don't know the deals I made.'_

" _I-_ " he choked, " _I_ know _. And I know you're capable, but, god, but this is all new, I don't know these fucks, I'm just here for the equipment! But if they start makin you fight? And you get hurt? That's... that's no better than me leavin for seven years... god Verv, I can't loose you. Not again._ "

Her gaze softened and she made a cooing noise deep in her throat before running over to him and wrapping him in a hug.

Doomfist walked over to Reaper as they hugged it out.

"He understands her?"

"It seems so."

"She sounds like a bird."

"Yeah."

Vervain sighed and kissed Mauerbauertraurigkeit's head.

' _You're such an idiot, you're not supposed to make me feel bad for you in the middle of a fight...'_

He laughed bitterly and hugged her tighter.

" _Yer gonna give me a heart attack one of these days..."_

The touching moment was interrupted by the lights suddenly flashing red and a siren blaring overhead. Mauerbauertraurigkeit slammed his hands over his ears and whimpered, and Vervain pressed his head to her chest to try to protect him from the sound. She turned to Gabriel and doomfist with a glare, only to find them talking through their earphones in rushed, panicked tones.

Gabriel stopped, looked straight at her, then smiled.

“Hey Vervain, want some extra weapon training?”

She tilted her head to the side and loosened her grip on Mauerbauertraurigkeit.

* * *

Ten minutes later, after convincing Mauerbauertraurigkeit that she could handle a quick mission, she was in a transport drone flying across the desert to another, smaller, talon base. Apparently, oOverwatch was attacking it, and she didn’t know why, but she didn’t particularly care. Mauerbauertraurigkeit was with her, not to fight, but to bring along his life serum to the battle. Overwatch fought three to one, very unfairly, and they were supposed to turn the tide.

The drone dropped them off on top of the building, and Mauerbauertraurigkeit Immediately went to work fixing up the bodies on the roof.

Vervain, on the other hand, went to one of the large turrets in the corner of the building, and tore it out of its foundation. It was fed by a magazine of some sort of plasma blasts, the kind that could shoot down fighter jets, so she smirked and started down the stairs into the war zone.

She came across a small group of talon agents in a side room, trying to figure out a plan of attack. They stopped when she walked in with a cannon as big as them, and they drew their weapons. She only looked amused.

Most talon agents carried badges that proved they worked for talon, as well as their job within the company. She flashed her own, and one of the agents opened and closed his mouth a few times before speaking.

“You’re a _lab assistant?_ ”

She shrugged and smiled, then looked over their shoulders to see their map of the base, all marked up.

“Overwatch has the whole south wing. That’s where we keep our testing labs. I don’t know what they’re looking for, we haven’t tested any subjects in months!”

She studied the map, not listening to them because they talked way to fast for her to keep up with. Instead, she grabbed the map, then pointed at all of them then up.

“You... want us to go up? To the roof?”

She pointed up again, then turned and left down the hall where the map said there was another stairwell.

* * *

Traversing the base was annoyingly easy. No Overwatch agents were scurrying about, so she guessed they really were all in one place. Which was stupid on their part, but made hers far easier.

And here she thought they’d be a challenge.

It wasn’t one, until she found some blast doors being guarded by what Gabriel called a bastion unit. It beeped at her with warning, the lights on its face flashing from blue to red, and she waved at it, which seemed to confuse it. As it hesitantly waved back, she looked around the door, looking for weak points.

She might not understand all of the high tech material used in this society, but she had spent her life fixing and rebuilding houses around town. Everyone helped with fixes if they could, and she and Mauerbauertraurigkeit were certainly the most able. If she couldn’t find weak spots before something was fixed, it meant they’d have a cave in, which was far more trouble to deal with.

Unfortunately, blast doors were, in fact, made to survive blasts. So the best option she had was to just pry the thing open. She sighed, then crouched down to where the door met the floor, dug her fingertips into the crack between the two, and lifted with her knees.

The door groaned. The bastion unit was beeping wildly, and for some reason, she heard a bird chirp.

Once she got it pryed open a few inches, she shuffled to get the toe of her boot - thankfully talon’s outfitters were fans of the steel-toe variety - under the door so she could adjust her grip.

With a better grip, and being slightly underneath the slab of a door, she hauled herself up and the door gave a terrible screech that would have left Mauerbauertraurigkeit unresponsive for a few hours, as it was pushed open against its will. She felt a sudden hot pain in her torso and glared at the Bastion unit, which had its gun raised. It stalked towards her, which was a big mistake on its part, as she tugged it forward with one hand, slid into the room behind her, and let the door fall onto the robot.

It would be out of commission for quite a while, but it held the door open enough for her to reach through the gap and drag her cannon back to her, then stand and turn to the room.

A team of strangely outfitted people stood before her, various weapons drawn, as lower ranked agents ran about, gathering files and breaking equipment.

Vervain gritted her teeth and a breathy growl came from her mouth. She could take all of them one on one, easy, but as a team, she wasn’t so sure. For the first time since she entered the base, she turned on her earpiece to talk to Mauerbauertraurigkeit.

' _Lots of agents in the south wing. They look weird. You got backup?'_

“I’ve had your backup ready five minutes in! You really should use help, sweetie! They are on their way, don’t do anything to bad!”

She rolled her eyes and realized that the small girl in orange was talking to her.

“-re you? Did Talon send ya? We’ve got no records on anyone like you!”

Vervain only stared down at her. It was bad enough that she talked fast, but she also had a weird accent.

She only stood still and stared at them, which seemed to make them far more uncomfortable than any fighting would achieve. As the self-proclaimed “good guys” they weren’t about to shoot first, or so Gabriel said, so she only stood and stared, and waited for her backup to come. The team didn’t seem to know what to do.

After a moment, she put her cannon down to lean against it, and pulled out the phone Talon had given her. She would have preferred a book, but apparently those weren’t allowed on missions. Oh well.

She opened up a romance novella she had been reading the other day and ignored the agents who were shifting awkwardly around her.

“Excuse me! Ma’am!”

She looked up at the large armored ape. Something about him was familiar.

“Are you going to attack us or not?”

She turned her back on him and faced the blast door that still held the bastion unit. It was beeping sadly.

She barely finished a chapter before her reinforcements crawled under the door, giving the Bastion unit odd looks that were then directed at her. The men from the room earlier nodded in greeting, but the agents that Mauerbauertraurigkeit must have revived stood in shock.

“Hey wait, we killed them already!” One of the overwatch people called out. It was the guy who was dressed as a cowboy. “How...?”

A talon agent approached Vervain and she put away her phone.

“You’re the backup Reaper sent?”

She had to sort the words out, then nodded.

“Your boyfriend up there gave us this. He said you’d know what to do with it.” He held a small case out to her, and she took it gingerly. It was thin but ran the length of her whole hand from palm to fingertip. Inside was a syringe with a thick needle, filled with a yellow green substance. She grinned.

She lifted her shirt, showing where the Bastion had shot her. The wound was evident, but her blood was thick and instead of pooling out of her, it oozed slowly. So slowly, in fact, that it looked like jello sliding down a slight incline. It moved as one piece and barely left the wound.

The talon agent before her took a step back when he saw it.

“That ain’t right.”

She plunged the needle into the area just above the wound, and as she pushed the substance into her, yellow green ropes ran through the congealed blood, looking like glowing spiderwebs.

With the serum working its way through her body, she felt a rush of energy overtake her. She quickly grabbed her turret, turned to the overwatch agents, and let a blast out at the ape. Her movements were sudden and caught most of them off guard, but the orange girl seemed to move faster than her own thoughts. She was able to move the ape over just enough to avoid the energy beam.

One of the other agents shot at her, but Mauerbauertraurigkeit’s medicine worked faster than the bullets. Her wounds stitched themselves back together before any of her congealed blood could escape.

She turned to the other talon agents and waved at the people shooting at her with an expression she hoped conveyed “what the fuck are you all standing around for, do your fucking job!” Some of them flinched back and hoisted their guns, as if they had forgotten where they were.

The room quickly dissolved into chaos.

It was a bloodbath, but Mauerbauertraurigkeit must have pumped their agents with his potions, cause none of them were dead yet. The overwatch agents that had spoken to her hadn’t been taken out yet, but they seemed like a special force. Like Reaper or Doomfist.

Never mind that, though, she thought. She could deal with them.

In the chaos that had ensued after she told her backup to go to town, she had pulled back. With little soldiers running about, undying, there was more for their enemy to worry about than a giant woman not shooting them. So she was able to take her time in setting up her turret to do the most damage.

She found a spot on top of a crate that overlooked the main area, and fiddled with the firing settings. When she fired that first blast, she hadn’t realized it was supposed to be “one shot at a time” kind of deal. She liked rapid fire kind of techniques.

When she was ready, she pulled her air mask off her face, letting it dangle around her neck, and let out a sharp whistle that cut through the sounds of gun fire and shouting. A few agents on booth teams dropped to the floor and covered their heads as if they were expecting some kind of bomb.

The rest looked around to figure out where it had come from. When someone pointed her out, standing atop her crate with a wide stance and turret pointed down at the battlegrounds, the overwatch special ops - as she had nicknamed them - pointed their guns at her, and her backup agents either got low, or backed off.

Good call, because the minute the first shot hit her leg, she pulled her trigger and her turret let loose beam upon beam of energy down at her foes.

Orange girl still seemed to be able to avoid her onslaught, somehow, but the others weren’t doing so well.

In her earpiece, she could hear Mauerbauertraurigkeit shouting at Gabriel, “That’s my girlfriend! That’s my girl! You see that on your men’s little secret video phones? That’s my Vervain!”

The agents that backed off were reloading and shooting from behind crates now, and overwatch really didn’t look too good. Agents were down left and right, the special ops guy with the cowboy hat was down to his last gun and seemed to have something wrong in his robot arm. The only person not behind cover was the orange girl, but she was looking pretty winded.

Vervain stopped her assault, mostly because her trigger finger was growing tired, but also because with nearly everyone undercover, she was just eating precious ammo. She didn’t know how much stuff was in the turret.

She threw it to the side, where it rolled and dropped down some crates and file cabinets. Her backup was still occasionally firing out to keep their enemy at bay, and Vervain approached the orange girl as she zipped around to avoid bullets. Her tiny gun was across the room. She wasn’t sure when the poor thing had lost it, but Vervain was impressed she hadn’t tried taking cover yet.

The rain of bullets stopped when she got into range, though, and the overwatch agent seemed relieved for all of two seconds before she realized Vervain was looming next to her.

“Fine! Get it over with!” She cried.

The ape shouted something angrily at her from where he was nursing bullet wounds and an energy blast to the stomach.

Vervain quirked an eyebrow at her, then typed out a response on her phone to be read. Orangey frowned at the phone and the voice that came out of it from the text to speech program.

“ _What do you want from us?_ ”

“What do we... what are you playing at?”

“ _Just want to know why I was pulled away for something like this. What are you here for?_ ”

“Obviously, we want your latest attack plans and to destroy your weapon testing site, why are you asking me this?” She seemed genuinely confused.

Vervain shrugged. “ _I’m new._ ”

Orangey looked over her shoulder at where her team was watching over a wall of desks and other dense office supplies. The cowboy shrugged at her, and she turned back to Vervain.

“Do ya know what you’re fighting for hon?”

Vervain shrugged again. The more she listened to the weird accent, the more she could understand it.

“If you join overwatch, we’ll actually tell you what you’re fighting for.”

One of her backup agents yelled something like “Hey, you can’t recruit mid-battle!” But Vervain wasn’t listening. Anger pooled in her stomach and Orangey must have noticed the rage across her face, since she took a shaky step back. Vervain furiously typed for long enough for someone to let out an awkward cough to cover the tense silence that hung over the room.

“ _You want to recruit me?! After you stole my boyfriend from me for seven years and had him locked up underground? You tore a good man from his family and community out of fear of the unknown then tried to get the love of his life to work on your side? How can people say they’re dedicated to bringing good into the world and turn around to do something like that? You stole him on our date night!_ ”

“What?” Orangey asked, “I don’t... I don’t understand.”

“Sweetheart,” Mauerbauertraurigkeit’s voice crackled through her earpiece, “only senior members of overwatch and the Ape know about me.”

Her head whipped towards the barrier overwatch had set up, and spotted the oversized monkey peering over his shelter at her. She narrowed her eyes at him and pushed Orangey out of the way to march towards him. His desk barrier was easy to step onto, with her height, and soon she was standing over him with fire in her veins.

“Let it go my sweet.” Mauerbauertraurigkeit was saying in her ear, but she had seven years worth of angst to let out.

She pointed at him and glared. The look on his face told her he knew what this was about.

“So, I, Uh... he had a family?”

“ _You know he did_.” Her phone replied.

“But-“

“Vervain!”

She turned to see Reaper crawling under the propped open shutter door.

“That’s enough!”

The Overwatch agents mumbled to each other, and Gabriel continued in his broken Icelandic.

“ _You’ll have time to be angry at them in future. Don’t let it all out today._ ”

She glared down at the ape and sniffed.

“ _Our team took out the bombs they had planted. There are no plans for them to steal here. You go back to your boyfriend, he’s panicking._ ”

With one last glance at Overwatch, she jumped off their meager barrier and left the site. She made sure to kick the bastion unit back into the room when she was in the other side, and the door slammed shut behind her.

* * *

Mauerbauertraurigkeit, the worrywart he seemed to be nowadays, was quick to gather her in his arms and squeeze as tight as he could the minute he saw her. He was talking a mile a minute, switching between Icelandic and English, probably not even noticing.

“I’m so sorry my dear, I didn’t know you were so held up on that, if I had known I wouldn’t have let you get near those bastards, I don’t want you upset! Oh you were fabulous though, absolutely gorgeous! The backup agents had secret cameras so we could watch what you were doing and you were so good! I love you,  _I love you_!”

She gave a soft chuckle and hugged him back.

_'It’s fine my little magician, I felt liberated, I think maybe I should do this for a living.'_

He let out a watery laugh. “As long as you don’t get too hurt, I’ll support you. I’ll bring you back to life as much as you need until you’re satisfied.”

She leaned down the foot that separated them, and kissed him. The happy hum he let out in response was worth more than anything money could buy.

* * *

The base was in a tizzy when they got back. Apparently, the cameras had sent footage not just to Gabriel, but to the TVs in the lunch and break rooms so agents not on the mission could keep up with events. Vervain was the talk of the town, and as she walked down the hall, people gave her respectful nods or stared at her with a mix of awe and fear.

She could get used to it.

As she walked down the hall, the scientists from the lab she had cooled off in earlier that day stepped out and waved her down. The others went ahead as she stopped to hear them out.

“We saw you in that fight, that was incredible!” Fredrick cried.

She nodded and crossed her arms.

“How much can you carry?”

She quirked an eyebrow.

“We um... well... do you know anything about plants?”

Well, that certainly got her attention. She perked up and Fredrick laughed softly.

“I’ll take that as a yes. We’d like to show you something we’ve been trying to figure out. Basically, we’re weaponizing the way plants grow.”

She quirked both her eyebrows, not fully understanding him, both because of the words he used and his whole concept.

Fredrick opened his mouth to explain, but was cut off by a loud rattling from in the lab, and the other scientists cursing. They backed up as the door rattled, and Fredrick pulled on Vervain’s clothes to encourage her to hide as well, but she easily shook him off to turn to the lab.

The door stopped rattling for all of two seconds before it exploded off of its hinges and a sea of green propelled itself straight for Vervain. She raised an arm up to protect her face, and fell into a wide stance. What grabbed onto her arm, however, was nothing more than rapidly growing vines. She stared at them, seeing several species growing alongside each other, and budding flowers of all colors.

She looked back at Fredrick with a giddy smile. He only looked vaguely concerned. Without delay, Vervain walked into the overgrown lab to help with the scientist’s little problem. The others did not follow.

* * *

Fredrick and his team of scientists had not gone back into the lab in about two hours. When Harry the geneticist tried to check on Vervain, all he had seen was her hunched over some equipment, with vines growing and decaying rapidly all around her. She had shooed him away, and a burst of vine growth pushed the door closed again.

So here they were, sitting in the hallway of talon, locked outside their own lab, playing cards.

“Got any queens?” Harry asked Clementine, who shook her head and smiled. Harry picked yet another card from the stack. At least they were learning more about each other. Before this, none of them had known Harry had never won a game of Go Fish. Perhaps Harry would have preferred how it was before, but there was no going back now.

“Ay, Tik, where’s Verv?”

Fredrick looked up to see Vervain’s very tall boyfriend, looking both impatient and worried at the same time.

“In the lab. She kicked us out.”

The man’s worry dissolved as he grinned then laughed heartily.

“Oh yeah, that sounds like her! What a beaut. What’s she working on?”

“Last we saw, she was working on some out of control plants we messed up with.”

“Can I go see?”

Fredrick looked at his team, then shrugged. “I guess that’s up to her now, not us.”

The gangly man trotted up to the door and flung it open, and the team of scientists leaned over to get a look inside.

Vervain held her arm up at eye level, and was moving her fingers steadily. The plants from earlier were gone without a trace.

“Hey Verv, how’re you?”

She turned with a grin, then made a motion with her hand that reminded Fredrick of a flower bud opening up. All at once, her arm from the elbow down was spouting vines that grew down and tied together. Her boyfriend stumbled back with a loud curse. After a moment of rapid growth, her arm was a solid patch of plant growth that looked almost cannon-like. She raised her plant arm, something within the green moved, and the end opened up into a big pink flower.

Vervain made a small noise to her boyfriend, and he sucked in a loud breath, then covered his mouth with his hands. He watched with a fire in his eyes as the plants tightened around her arm, recoiled just a bit, then the flower spat out a blob of pollen that exploded against the wall and dispersed into the air.

“What the hell was that?!” Harry asked as he struggled to get up. He ran a hand through his hair as he watched the pink pollen filter through the fluorescent lights, and Fredrick couldn’t help but wonder the same.

“That,” Vervain’s boyfriend said as he turned to them with a wide grin, “is Verv’s new weapon for field work.”

Fredrick looked at his team, who looked right back at him with various levels of concern. He had his doubts that Talon, let alone the rest of the world, was ready for this particular power couple.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going stir-crazy out here, can't believe i managed to actually write.
> 
> good days/bad days tally  
> Overwatch: 10/2  
> Talon: 2/0  
> Bastion: He's just having a rough time


End file.
